


Beyond the Mask

by The_Keeper, Tudor_Rose



Series: Sons of the Empire [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Has Issues, Darth Vader Lives, Darth Vader Redemption, F/M, Family Bonding, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Forgiveness, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Marriage, Medical Procedures, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Protective Luke, Recovery, Second Chances, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 62,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23267188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Keeper/pseuds/The_Keeper, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tudor_Rose/pseuds/Tudor_Rose
Summary: After their narrow escape from the exploding Death Star, Luke Skywalker faces a new challenge. As his comrades rebuild in the wake of a fallen empire, the young Jedi Knight must convince his peers of the validity of a possible new alley, Darth Vader himself.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Anakin Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo
Series: Sons of the Empire [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673065
Comments: 284
Kudos: 535





	1. Chapter 1

The frailty was obvious to look at him now, laid out and buckled in when Luke set the shuttle to autopilot to check on his father. The universal terror of the galaxy, nothing more than a weak old man, barely clinging to life with the aid of a basic oxygen mask, something he knew wouldn’t sustain him for long. Luke wondered what people might think if they knew that, in some respects, Darth Vader was just as much of a victim of the Empire.

Luke felt the floor rumble beneath his feet, drawing his attention back to the cockpit. The adrenalin from the events of the past few hours starting to wear off. A blast across the bow of an Imperial shuttle approaching the fleet, no distress signal, no communications received. He cursed to himself as he threw himself into the pilot’s seat.

_“Imperial vessel. This is Home One. Identify yourself.”_

Luke hurriedly pressed the comm. “This is Commander Luke Skywalker. Come in!”

Seconds passed in silence. Luke’s stomach felt as he awaited a reply. He reached for the comm again. “Come in. This is Commander Skywalker, over.”

_“Imperial vessel. You have received your only warning. I repeat. Identify yourself.”_

“I repeat, this is Commander Skywalker. I have a wounded passenger on board.”

His eyes scanned the horizon, each friendly ship becoming much more sinister. His fingers white knuckled on the controls. “Home One! Please respond, this -” the second shot was not a warning. As threatened, the fleet had engaged.

“Hold on!” Luke called to the back of the shuttle, not expecting a reply as he swiftly turned the shuttle, attempting an evasive manoeuvre as the sky was lit up with laser fire. He swerved and turned, weaving between streaks of blue and green as he made for the forest moon, his oblivious comrades on his tail, raining fire down on him.

Alarms screeched as red overhead lights flashed, Luke yelled as the shuttle shook violently, just catching himself against the control panel as a white outline of the left wing lit up on the screen, flashing red at the lower half, signalling a severe hit.

Luke gripped at the controls as they entered the lower atmosphere, the foliage coming up fast. He quickly scanned the incoming surroundings; if they hit the forest it would be all the more difficult to find them. He turned sharply to the left, the damaged wing causing heavy resistance. Black smoke billowed as the shuttle collided against tree tops, throwing Luke against the console and from his seat as the shuttle smashed into a tree, the blow spinning him out, the remainder of the wing coming free from the body of the ship, raining metal down onto the forest floor. 

Grinding his teeth, he attempted to pull himself back into the chair but the force of the spiralling vessel left him pinned to the floor. His fingers gripped the side of the console, desperate for leverage as the spinning intensified only for it to halt immediately. Suddenly his world stopped spinning, the force of the crash throwing him into the air, his jaw pre-emptively clenching before coming down hard onto the floor.

His eyes opened slowly, lazily blinking, before closing again. When they opened, he didn’t know how much time had passed. A throbbing pain raged behind his eyes, vision blurry as he carefully moved to sit up against the wall, pulling himself to his feet. Wincing, he covered his eyes, waiting for the pain to subside. Gradually, his vision began to clear through the pain in his head persisted and his legs were unsteady. Bracing his hand against the wall with only the emergency lighting in the floor as his guide, he made his way towards the cargo bay.

He braced himself in the doorway, ignoring the dull ache in his bones. Gently he lowered himself to the bunk. “Father,” he whispered, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. As though sensing the presence beside him, the old man stirred, eyes slowly opening, tired and unfocused. It wasn’t long before he once again lost consciousness, eyes rolling back as his head lolled to the side. Sighing dejectedly, the young man adjusted the oxygen levels as best he could while insuring the mask remained secure. His father didn’t wake again, the noticeable wheeze told Luke that he didn’t have long.

He felt at a loss. He couldn’t risk leaving his father, but he couldn’t remain here like this.

His already hazy train of thought was suddenly derailed by a loud metallic sound echoing through the shuttle. Alert, Luke cautiously stepped back into the hall. If the fighting hadn’t stopped he knew he was still at risk of being discovered by Imperial troops. Bracing himself against the wall, he edged forward as light began to creep in around the ramp as it was slowly wrenched open, a series of voices on the other side.

Luke pulled the saber from his belt, igniting it. The green beam illuminated the darkened hallway as sun light poured into the shuttle, causing him to shield his eyes.

“Woah, hold your fire, hold your fire!” One of the voice’s shouted, his companions posed, ready to fire. “It’s Commander Skywalker!”

Luke’s eyes scanned the group of soldiers before his gaze fell to notice the plump little bodies standing at knee height, all holding branches, spears and rocks.

“Lutz!” Luke exclaimed, relief instantly rushing over him. Upon seeing the young Jedi, the Ewoks escorting the group cheered happily, running to their fellow tribe brother, dropping their weapons as both latched onto his legs, nuzzling and purring.

“Hey, hey!” He chuckled, patting them on the backs. “I missed you too, guys.”

“That was hell of a crash, Commander. Are you alright?” The Nautolan asked, stepping closer as he looked over the young man who was still trying to pry his legs free.

“Honestly,” he rubbed the back of his neck, wincing, “been better. Took a bad hit. I have a wounded passenger. He needs help.” He groaned, feeling the ache in his bones return stronger.

“You both do,” Lutz affirmed, signalling his men over. He looked over Luke’s shoulder into the shuttle, “where is he?”

“Follow me,” Luke replied, leading them into the shuttle. When they came to the cargo bay door Luke turned to Lutz. “In here. And Doctor?”

“What is it?”

“Have I ever given you any reason to doubt my judgement?”

Lutz’s eyes narrowed quizzically. “Never.” Luke only nodded in reply before stepping aside to allow the doctor access.

He entered the room, leaving the rest to follow. What they saw or what they believed they saw had each of them frozen in place. The large body of what appeared to be an elderly man lay motionless on a makeshift bunk, a black cape, blanketing him up to the neck. With only his head visible, Lutz could see his sickly, pale complexion, the sunken sockets of his eyes rimmed with purple discolouration. Underneath his left eye a large, jagged scar ran across his cheek to the side of his head while another large scar protruded from his hairless scalp, swollen and cracked.

Lutz lent down closer to the unconscious man, looking him over quickly. He lifted the oxygen mask off ever so slightly, only for the man’s chest to heave weakly. Placing the mask back, the doctor moved his hand to the patient’s neck, the other peeling back his eyelid with his thumb to look for any sign of response.

“This brace,” Lutz began, his fingers tracing the cold metal. “Did you put this on him?”

Luke swallowed, his stomach sinking. “No, it’s a part of the suit.”

Lutz looked over his shoulder, meeting Luke’s gaze. He removed his hand slowly from the man’s face, placing it cautiously on the grip of his blaster. He kept his index finger off the trigger, making sure Luke could see. Despite himself, Luke nodded in reply; the man had every right to defend himself should the need arise.

“None of you boys overreact, now.” Lutz said, coming to stand as he pulled the cover back, exposing the suit beneath.

Blasters were drawn and aimed instantly, ready to fire. In the same instant Luke had his lightsaber once again ignited only to be pushed aside by the doctor, his other hand halting his men.

“Stand down, all of you!” He ordered. The men looked at each other, hesitantly before looking back at their superior, weapons still trained. “I said stand down.” The men slowly lowered their weapons, though they never took their eyes off the man lying before them.

“We get him to the Redemption and figure out the rest when the time comes. Am I understood?”

“Yes sir,” his men responded.

“Good,” reaching into his jacket he pulled out a comm. “This is Lutz, I have a patient in need to immediate assistance. Condition critical. Urgently requesting provisions.”

_“Copy, Lutz. What you need?”_

“Hovergurney, oxygen and shock blanket. High priority. Sending men to retrieve them.”

_“Copy that.”_

Shutting the comm off, he looked to his men. “Go back to base, get the supplies. Anyone asks, you’re under orders.”

Wasting no time the men ran from the room, leaving Luke and the doctor alone while the Ewoks saw fit to guard the door.

Sitting down with his back to the wall, Luke just looked at the old man who still lay motionless, the only indication of life being the slow rise and fall of each laboured breath aided by the oxygen supply. His mind was still blank, this thoughts distant and the more he tried to think what outcome this would result in, he could only picture the worst which made him doubt himself even more. He achieved what others believed impossible and at the cost of almost not only his own life but his father’s too.

_Come with me._

The more he thought on it and as sure as he was then in his conviction that good still remained somewhere in his father, in saving him now, was he just prolonging an inevitable fate that his father could have been spared if he had just let him die? Rubbing his face, he felt the fatigue begin to settle in.


	2. Chapter 2

The journey back took slightly longer than Luke would have expected though he was however thankful for the extra time it gave him to compose his thoughts. The task of lifting his father onto the hovergurney had been a challenge with both the severity of his condition and Luke’s exhaustion but at last they managed to secure him safely, covering him as best they could, using the cape to pillow his head.

Now with Luke and Lutz beside him, the soldiers flanking his sides and the Ewoks, diligent as ever, leading the way back to base, spears poised should any threat befall them. One ran ahead climbing onto a fallen tree, whistling. He paused a moment, whistling again before the sound was repeated, echoing in the distance as another Ewok appeared. He waved his arm at them before again disappearing again into the undergrowth.

Laughing, he ran back to them pushing his spear in the direction of the call.

“I saw him,” Lutz affirmed only to notice a glimpse of trepidation in the young Jedi’s face. They were getting close and despite the security Lutz and his party provided, he still couldn’t calm his mind.

“Let me do the talking, okay?”

Luke nodded.

“And that little detail you told me?” Lutz said as he looked down at the unconscious man. “Let’s just keep it between us for now.”

Before he had a chance to reply, his attention was suddenly drawn to the sound of leaves rustling, the snapping of twigs and branches as more little warriors ran out from the shrubs, one even to Luke’s amused horror wearing a stormtrooper’s helmet.

“Nice,” Lutz laughed knocking on the helmet. He turned to Luke, “when they saw the explosion,” he gestured his eyes to the glowing debris still visible in the sky, “most of the troopers dropped their guns.”

“They surrendered?” Luke asked surprised.

“Not worth getting killed for a failed cause.”

As they neared the village horns blew from tree to tree signalling the party’s return. It was nearing dusk and the area was surrounded with camp fires, the largest in the centre of the village. Logs, stones and furs had been arranged around it with some Ewoks carrying bowls, others with hunted game ready for roasting in preparation for what was to be a large celebration marked when the first of the fireworks began to explode in the sky.

While some worked, others sat on the ground clearly as exhausted as Luke felt. Some laughed and hugged. Looking across the clearing, he saw some Ewoks tending the wounded; one helping to dress a head wound, pulling away the bloody bandage while another helped a man who had his arm in a makeshift splint drink.

“The medical transports are over there,” Lutz informed. “We get him on board, we get him to the Redemption.”

Luke nodded. “Let’s go.”

With Lutz now walking in front of the gurney in an attempt to obscure his father they hastily made their way to the transports. There was officer standing by the ramp, ushering in the injured.

“Doctor Lutz,” he said happily, noticing the newcomers. “Commander Skywalker! It’s good to have you back.”

Not returning the greeting, Lutz moved aside to reveal the dying man. “He’s critical.”

It only took one glance. “Bring him in, quickly.”

***

Arriving on board the Redemption they were instantly directed to a bay that would take the more serious patients to the Intensive Care Unit. Lutz continued to lead; his own status as a doctor allowing them to be fast passed through the corridors of the ship without being questioned save for a few curious glances. They paid them no mind as they finally made it to the ICU. Signalling Luke to wait, Lutz walked ahead grabbing the attention of a droid who after a brief exchange, hurried off.

Moments later another doctor approached, holding a pad followed by a nurse.

“What happened to him?” The doctor asked as Lutz moved aside.

“He’s having trouble breathing,” Luke began, “I think there might be something wrong with his neck.” He couldn’t exactly say the old man was struck by lighting.

“He’s been struggling, even on air.” Lutz clarified. “We might need to prep him for emergency surgery."

“Or at least get him into bed,” Luke pleaded.

“We’ll try. More keep coming and we don’t have enough beds.” The nurse said, flushed, waving her hand to emphasise her point. “We’re run off our feet, here.”

“I understand,” Lutz replied, “but this man won’t last much longer if he’s not treated now.”

The other doctor looked over his father’s face, hands carefully hovering. “I’ll need to examine him first, see what I’m dealing with.” As he started to pull the blanket away, Luke stepped forward, drawing the doctor’s attention.

“If possible,” he began, “could we take him to a private room?”

“It will only take a minute, Commander. I’ll be as quick as I can.” The doctor said giving him a sympathetic look before pulling back the blanket. The world around him suddenly slowed, sounds ceasing as he watched Lutz rub his face, the nurse cover her mouth and the colour drain from the doctor’s face as he recognised the infamous durasteel armour and chest panel.

“Doctor-” Luke began, urging the man let him attempt to at least explain himself.

“It’s him,” gasped the doctor, his volume unchecked. “How…how did you capture him? What happened to him?” Luke glanced over his shoulder, feeling the eyes being drawn to them before he even saw them.

“We can’t stay out here.” Luke insisted, keeping his focus on his father as Lutz hastily covered him again.

The doctor turned to the nurse. “Go find a room, anywhere, now.” As she took off running, all they could do was wait and try and avoid the numerous stares Luke knew they were getting. Of all the tense situations he’d been in he never felt as trapped as this.

“Hey!” A voice came from behind Luke as he turned to see a man, uninjured, save for a few cuts and bruises on his face wearing a ground assault uniform. He walked towards them with a determined stride, his eyes set on the gurney. Sensing danger, Luke moved protectively in front of his father, wedging himself between him and the man.

“Why is he here?” The man began, coming only a few feet short of Luke.

“He’s wounded.” Luke responded calmly. “A prisoner of war.”

“He shouldn’t be here.” The man stated angrily looking around Luke to get a look at the old man’s face.

Luke shook his head, “that’s not your call.”

“Not my call? He’s a murderer!”

“High Command will decide his fate.” Luke replied, trying to remain calm.

“And until then he’s just going to lie here, take up space and our resources when our people need them? Speaking of,” he nodded at the gurney, “I’m going to need that.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with you.” Luke stated, the man’s stance and tone made him transparent to his intention.

Ignoring him, the man stepped closer reaching his hand out to take hold of the gurney only for the Jedi to immediately take a hold of his collar with one hand, using the other to grab his outstretched arm effectively locking him in place. “Test me.” Luke said lowly, tightening his grip. “Go on. Keep testing me.” He pushed the guy forward.

Adjusting his jacket, the man simply scowled at Luke before returning to where he came from. He felt a steady hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. Looking back he and Lutz regarded each other, no words needed.

_“Doctor Orma, come in.”_

The second doctor, Orma, picked up his comm. “Go ahead.”

_“Ward C. Room 401. It’s ready for him.”_

Wasting no time in going to the room that had been sourced for his father, Luke was happy to find that it was on an upper level which consisted mostly of private recovery rooms closed off to most people. It was here he would remain until further action was decided.

“The only people with direct access to these rooms are myself, Lutz and a handful of other medical personal.” Orma explained in what Luke assumed was a gesture of reassurance in relation to what had just occurred.

The room itself was exactly what Luke imagined; plain, simple but calming. Coated in a creamy white it had a single bed and chair nestled by a window offering a view of endless stars, an attached refresher with a mirror on the adjacent wall topped with a small light. By the bed also sat numerous machines, including a more complex respirator.

Pulling back the sheets, Orma helped guide the gurney to the side of the bed. “Let’s get him settled.”

“We need to take him off oxygen for a moment to transfer him, just keep him steady.” Lutz advised, carefully removing the oxygen mask. The moment it left his face his face, he began to cough as he took an unassisted breath.

“I’ll take his legs. Orma, his arms. Luke, support his head. Ready, 1..2..3..lift!”

Even with their combined strength, they strained and groaned as the deposited him heavily on the bed. He emitted a small moan as he struggled to breathe on his own.

“Hold on, hold on.” Lutz muttered, unwinding a transparent tube from around the ventilator as he secured the new oxygen mask to his face, fastening the padded bands which went around both his forehead and bottom jaw. After a few shaky breaths his breathing began to regulate and soon he calmed, head lulling to the side.

“There you go,” Lutz stretched, winding his arms behind his back while Luke collapsed heavily in the chair next to his father’s bed, feeling almost unable to get up.

“I should get back to the ICU,” Orma said, rubbing the back of his neck. “There are many more patients that need tending to.”

“I’ll go with you.” Lutz offered, giving a knowing glance to Luke.

“I will be back in a few hours to check on him,” Orma promised, “but for now, he should be fine.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Luke said genuinely. “If it’s all the same, I’d like to stay awhile.”

Orma glanced at the Nautolan who just nodded. “Of course.” He replied before taking his leave, followed by Lutz.

Finally alone, Luke let out a tired sigh as he ran his hands through his hair only to notice his father’s cape lying discarded on the floor. Gathering it up, he draped it over the elderly man before reclining back into the chair, his eyes growing heavier. While he knew the situation was far from over he could, if only for now, let himself relax as his eyes drifted shut.


	3. Chapter 3

“Can I get a mechanic in here, please?” Lutz shouted down the hallway, dishevelled. “I need a mechanic!”

Nursing a cup of caf, Luke’s head snapped up at the command as the doctor again called for assistance before someone came running forward, being ushered immediately into the room. Lutz then beckoned Luke, “you might as well come in too.”

Entering the room, he saw Orma and the nurse, Ally, who had previously found his father a room accompanied by a few droids scattered throughout the room. In the centre on the surgical table lay his father.

“How’s he doing?” Luke asked, stepping beside Ally who stood with her arms lightly crossed while the two doctors continued to analyse the suit.

“Breathing.” Lutz answered, gently pressing down on the older man’s chest. “Henson,” he called the mechanic over gesturing to his chest, “what you make of this?”

If the mechanic was scared, from what Luke could see, he didn’t show it as he reached out to tentatively touch the man’s chest panel, sliding his hand around the side, careful not to disturb any of the buttons. “This is heavy duty, even for a piece of armour.” He admitted before directing his attention to the black armour covering his shoulders.

“We need to get him out,” Lutz affirmed. “Any ideas?”

Henson thought a moment, lightly patting across his body, fingers searching for locks or clasps. “I can’t say for certain but I’d say your best bet would be to remove this first,” he tapped the breast plate with his knuckles.

“Already looked over it,” Lutz replied with a sigh. “Can’t see any opening, same goes for his brace.”

“We could always cut.” Orma suggested.

“That’s where our friend here comes in,” Lutz agreed, gesturing to Henson. “Otherwise we risk damaging him further. How’s his oxygen levels?” He asked Ally.

“Stable, Doctor.”

“Start from a side just before his shoulder plate.” Luke advised, pointing. “Just around here.”

“I hear you,” Henson nodded. “It’s thick so it won’t be so close to the chest. Just tell me if he looks like he’s reacting to any heat and I’ll stop.”

“Noted,” Lutz said. “Henson, you ready?”

Letting out a deep exhale, the mechanic pulled out a small device from his jacket, activating it. Aiming the small laser around the area Luke suggested, he slowly traced it downwards watching as a thin white line appeared in the armour as it began to separate. Henson repeated the action a few times while Ally kept an eye on the patient’s oxygen.

“One more should do it,” Henson muttered as he traced the laser over the armour again before the piece came away. There was a sense of relief in the room.

“Now just the rest,” Orma laughed nervously. Painstakingly, the mechanic continued with his work patiently and methodically; preparing to mirror his previous action on the patient’s other side.

“Levels still steady,” Ally noted.

“Proceed.”

Henson, with Lutz and Luke’s help, carefully lifted the chest piece. Turning slowly, the mechanic allowed the plating to fall to the floor with a clatter.

It was then his eyes shot open.

“He’s awake!” Ally called out, screaming as he bent forward, pushing himself up to sit on the table. There was a sudden, overwhelming pressure in the room, threatening to take everyone off their feet. Unfocused, panicked eyes fell on the mechanic.

“Get out of the way!” Luke let out a yell, moving quickly to Henson’s side, throwing his hand up to push him away. He pushed right through the attempted interception, taking Luke’s hand in his own as he closed his fingers around Henson’s neck, Luke’s mechanised fingers the only thing cushioning the older man’s oppressive grip.

Orma moved quickly to a set of cabinets at the side of the room, opening a lower drawer and taking out what looked like a small pistol, loading it with a large glass capsule. He twisted a dial on the side. “Hold him down!”

The shout pulled his focus, tilting his head to scowl at Orma whose free hand clutched his throat as he fell to his knees, Ally’s eyes watering as she watched the ensuing chaos. Luke could hear the sounds of whirling machinery start to grind to a halt as the grip on Henson’s throat grew tighter, the man’s face starting to turn red as tear filled eyes became unfocused.

Lutz darted past the young nurse, taking a hold of the valve on the oxygen tank, twisting it sharply. Luke could feel the grip on his decimated hand start to loosen, his father’s eyes rolling back into his head as he let go of both the mechanic physically as well as the doctor he held mentally in his grasp, both men spluttering loudly.

“Ally, sedative!” Lutz called out as he turned the oxygen quickly back up, the man on the table twitching, gasping hard as he in turn fought for the air that was returning to his lungs. Ally took the tranquillizer from Orma’s shaking hand and passed it to Lutz.

The doctor moved his free hand to support the patient, pressing the tranquillizer to his exposed chest and pulling the trigger, pumping him full of a strong sedative. The dizziness for the prior lack of air appeared to do the trick, Lutz having to drop the gun to support the man’s fall back to the table.

“Easy, now.” Lutz muttered as the man’s head lolled to the side, once again unconscious. Lutz’s gaze met Luke’s as he supported the still coughing mechanic, the room finally settled after the chaos. They looked over the now immobile body, lying peacefully, as though nothing had happened prior.

“Ally, take a minute if you need to.” Lutz urged, the nurse retreating from the room, wiping the tears from her eyes and cheeks. “Good man, Henson. You’ve been a brilliant help. Go get someone to look at that throat,” he instructed the mechanic who was still rubbing his tender throat, the skin already starting to bruise. Lutz turned to Orma, the other doctor adjusting the collar of his uniform, a slick sheen of sweat across his forehead.

“Just give me a moment to settle. Then we’ll strip and prep him for surgery.”

“We’ll take it from here, Luke.” Lutz nodded, Luke returning the gesture as he exited. He looked down it his hand, flexing. That remaining hand had to be a fake. Luke couldn’t even close his mangled fingers into a fist.

***

He sat outside the operating room. They had decided to give his father a tracheotomy for his breathing, a temporary solution to an apparently much ghastlier problem. Lutz had attempted to be tactful when describing his condition afterwards. Malnutrition, badly irritated skin around the prosthetic ports and other areas of his body. He had described a half finished mechanoid, a patch work man. Luke battled with himself whether he should enter to see him or not.

The hours passed by before Lutz came out of the room with a bed pushed by Orma and Ally. Silently they made their way back to his father’s room, carefully settling him. The old man didn’t stir.

“He’s on very heavy painkillers,” Lutz informed as he carefully looked over the white band and tube around his neck, “but he did well. Now, he needs to sleep.”

Luke nodded, never taking his eyes off his father.

“Same as before, one of us will be checking in on him every few hours.” Orma said before taking his leave along with Ally. Luke watched as Lutz made a slight adjustment to the one of many blankets tucked around the older man, only his remaining arm laying atop.

“I’m going to stay with him.” The young man said, earning a smile from the doctor.

“I kinda figured.” Lutz replied, patting him affectionately on the back before leaving them alone together. Sitting back down, he was relieved to find the pain mostly gone after he was forced into a bacta tank by Orma only to have bacta patches applied after. Now in the silence of the room, save for the gentle, consistent beeps of the numerous monitors surrounding his father, Luke could see just how much of a road his father had to go.

“You have done something I no longer thought possible,” said a familiar, old voice that Luke so missed. “I had faith in you, Luke. Perhaps I should have shown more.” Obi-Wan finished, smiling gently.

“I won’t lie and say it was easy.” Luke smiled back. His face quickly fell, looking back down at his father. “I didn’t expect…this.”

“No but I suppose no one really would. The bane of the galaxy.” Obi-Wan mused. He leaned down next to Luke, examining the man for himself. “It won’t be easy for him. Recovery will be the least of his worries. You’ll need to show that conviction and even more so.”

“What happened to him?” Luke asked, more to himself. “What could have to this?”

“The Emperor was always formidable, even before you had the pleasure of his audience. A manipulative snake. We were all so, so blind to him.” Obi-Wan answered with a sigh, rubbing his nose between thumb and forefinger.

“And his body? He did all this?” Luke asked, reaching down to lightly touch his father’s chest.

“No.” Obi-Wan answered. Luke turned his head, brow furrowed in confusion. His face softened when he saw his master’s eyes. They suddenly showed his age; the lids damp, tears threatening to spill down ethereal cheeks. “This, I was responsible for. I helped in the making of this monster.”

“Ben?” Luke couldn’t hide the falter in his voice. Obi-Wan’s gaze met his. The old man was crying, though only the tears gave it away on a face as fixed as carved stone.

“I couldn’t protect him. I failed him.” Eyes fell on the sleeping body, his lips twisted as he spoke, his teeth clenched hard. “I failed my boy.”

Luke could feel his own eyes starting to water. He wanted to grab his master, to embrace him but he didn’t even know if he would be able to touch him now. He felt so helpless. His focus was pulled when he heard a loud, choking hitch. He turned to look at his father, his eyes now open. He didn’t appear to be able to see Obi-Wan.

“When he is ready, he will tell you what you wish to know. I will guide you as best I can, Luke. Succeed where I and so many others failed. I beg of you.” With that final plea, he felt his master’s presence vanish.

Going quickly to his father’s side as the old man looked at him tiredly, he took his hand in his own. “Father?” He asked gently. “Can you hear me?”

His father said nothing, only blinking wearily as he continued to gaze at him. “Do you need anything?” Luke asked, settling down on the bed.

Again the older man said nothing but this time Luke could see his mouth start to move slightly, like he was trying to speak. Leaning further in he tried to make out what he was trying to say only it was so faint, barely above a whisper, that he strained to make anything out. Suddenly he began to cough, Luke hastily putting a hand behind his head to ease him forward, offering a cup of water. His father weakly waved him off.

“Just rest a minute,” Luke said placing his head back on the pillows. Shaking his head, his father’s chest continued to wheeze as he again tried to speak.

“Father, don’t strain yourself.” Luke urged, leaning in as close as he could without laying on him. What he heard, or what he thought he heard, made no sense but before he could ask, his father was once again asleep.

Leaning back into the chair Luke frowned, thinking over what he heard.

“Carrion. Imperial Bank 2370. Access 37-62-45-27. Lockout 2705…..what?”


	4. Chapter 4

Luke stood shoulder to shoulder with Lutz as the drop pod opened up on the surface of the planet Ki’tel, its lush forests and placement near the Outer Rim making it the ideal choice for a hub base. High Command had been busy prepping the planet’s surface, readying it for operation as a new forward command base.

As the pod door opened, Luke was blinded momentarily by a harsh break of sunlight before his eyes began to adjust. Large sections of forest had been cleared to set up box buildings dotted around the premises. Lutz glanced over at his younger companion. “Welcome to Ki’tel Forward Command, Commander Skywalker.” He said with a smile before pushing the gurney forward, Luke, Lutz and two rebel troops starting to move in step with each other.

They crossed a large spread of concrete, towards one of the larger buildings. “What am I looking at here?” Luke asked, still taking everything in.

“So far we’ve a fully equipped command centre and medical facility. When I last left they’d begun working on rec rooms and permanent housing.” He nudged Luke, pulling the young man’s focus towards him. “He’ll be in decent hands, trust me.”

As they crossed the threshold, other doctors with their wounded at their heels, they watched as a series of ships started to descend onto the nearby landing pads. Luke stood for a moment, watching as an old style LAAT slowly settled while a few fighters came to a slow halt on the nearby runway. Fighter pilots started to make their way towards the base as the medical staff and their wounded crossed to the facility. Luke’s eyes were fixed on the old transport, tattered and ramshackle. Its crew joining the throng of fighters.

“They have a story?” Luke asked, gesturing to the crew of the old transport ship. Lutz glanced over, indicating the whole fleet. “There was word circulating that Kashyyyk was taking a pounding. Some of these guys look like ground assault.”

The drop squad walked in time with the rest of the pilots, all still caked in mud, their weapons slung over their shoulders. There were five in all, three human, a Twi’lek and a Rodian, the women looking just as formidable as the men. One of the men, heavily bearded and smoking, held a storm trooper helmet in his hand which he bowled across the concrete before soundly stomping on it, crushing it under his boot to the cheers of those around them. They looked over, saluting the wounded that some of the other troops had rushed over to assist with.

Upon entering, Luke was met with sterile white walls and hallways branching off from the reception area. Lutz spoke briefly with the receptionist, only once gesturing to the sleeping man on the gurney before returning to Luke.

“Someone will be here shortly to take him.” Lutz explained, watching the young man wearily rub his eyes. “You go get some rest.” The doctor advised. “We’ll take it from here.”

He looked down at his father, reaching down to rest a hand on his lightly heaving chest. He reluctantly broke from Lutz and the guards, looking back only once to see a group of medical personnel surrounding the gurney, leading it further into the centre, Lutz following.

Now alone he felt the fatigue start to sink in, his eyes get heavier, but there was one more thing he needed to do. Spotting a squadron pilot, he called him over. “Excuse me. Is Leia here?”

“She and General Solo arrived yesterday, sir.”

“Can you pass on a message to her for me?” Luke asked, the young pilot standing to attention. “Of course, Commander.”

“If you could let her know that I’ve arrived. I have some information for her.” The pilot nodded, offering a salute which Luke quickly returned before departing, continuing on to where his quarters were located. Shutting the door, he let himself fall unceremoniously onto the bunk, draping an arm lazily over his head as he felt the world around him slowly fade into nothing.

***

Luke woke with a start to the sound of knocking on his door. He looked around the room, stretching before the knock came again. “Luke?” A voice asked from the other side of the door. Opening it, he was almost rushed off his feet as his sister collided with him, throwing her arms around him, squeezing him to her tightly. He wound his arms around her in turn, keeping her in the embrace before lightly coaxing her from him, his hands lightly holding her arms. “I’m alright,” he smiled, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Everything is alright.”

Leia slowly released herself from Luke’s grip, straightening and slipping back into her businesslike formality, all without her eyes changing. “I was informed you had something for me?”

“Imperial code, or at least that’s what it seems to be. Do you have anything to take it down with?” At that Leia produced a small recorder, nodding as she handing it to Luke. He held the device up to his lips, holding is gaze with her as he recited the information both back to her and for the sake of the recording. Her brow furrowed as she tried to connect the pieces together. “Does it mean anything to you?” Luke asked.

“It does definitely seem to be Imperial code, data base access perhaps? I’ll look into it.” She then looked at her brother, “where did you get this?”

“We...had some time to talk.”

Her eyes narrowed in confusion before realisation slowly began to dawn. “Luke.”

“I had to try and reason with him. If there was a small chance I could get through to him then…the Emperor’s dead, Leia. He gave me this code after he killed him.” Luke watched the colour slowly drain from her face, her eyes, though consciously fixed to hide her shock were quick to betray her. He reached out, coaxing her to sit as he told her the story from the beginning, even finding it unbelievable himself when he heard it out loud. By the end of his story, Leia was sitting in silence, hunched with her chin propped up in her hands, lost for words.

“Know else knows about this?”

“Lutz, a few medical personnel and us. Some of the troops might be suspicious but there’s nothing that can be confirmed.”

“And how is he?”

“Honestly,” he began, “I don’t know how he’s still alive. I’m hoping to know more soon when I see him.”

She pursed her lips, her face pensive as she lapsed back into silence before nodding slowly. “I’ll speak to High Command about this.” She said finally, getting to her feet. “You rest up for now, anything comes up, you’ll be the first to know. Keep me updated on his condition.” Luke nodded, moving to stand before exchanging another embrace before Leia departed. Now that he was once again alone, Luke took the time to change out of his clothes before getting under the covers. The thoughts that clouded his mind didn’t linger for long. The second his head touched the pillow, Luke was sound asleep.

***

Rested and refreshed, Luke made his way back to the medical centre. He was careful not to drop names at the reception, asking the desk staff for the room of the patient admitted by Lutz. Luke set off through the halls of the centre, each wall on the ward lined with frosted windows. The door slid open as Luke stepped inside. 

His father, now awake, was sitting up in bed, propped up with multiple pillows while a young woman, round in shape with dark skin and raven hair leaned over him, gently adjusting the white band around his neck before reaching up to make a small adjustment to the output of his IV. “That should do the trick for now, it’ll help you settle.” Said the woman, her voice deep and even before she turned, catching Luke with olive eyes. She straightened quickly, crossing the room and extending her hand. “Commander Skywalker.”

“I’m sorry to intrude, I hope I’m not interrupting, Doctor…” Luke began, accepting her hand and shaking it.

“Doctor Tambra. And no, not at all. I was just finishing up here.” Her tone was formal, measured before her face softened into a light smile. She turned back to her patient. “That’s all for now, Anakin. I’ll be back later. If you should need assistance, do call.” 

Anakin nodded, indicating his head to a little device with a red button, resting just under his remaining hand. She smiled before turning back to Luke.

“How’s he doing?” Luke asked, keeping his voice low as he stepped towards the door with Dr. Tambra. Her brow furrowed slightly, as if to choose her words.

“I do not know what you tell you, Commander. Your father, he is…not a well man. Dr. Lutz’s chart, while it gives me somewhere to begin, I’m sorry to say that there was no way it could have fully prepared me or any of the staff for that matter.” Something in her eyes hardened as her gaze met Luke’s. “You needn’t worry, however. I’m sure you and your flyboys aren’t afraid of a challenge. Neither am I. I intend to do all I can for my patient.”

She was smaller than him, maybe around Leia’s size, if not smaller by an inch or two. The young woman stood powerfully in spite of this. Her tone, her manner, it actually gave Luke a twinge of confidence. He nodded. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“I’ll leave you two to be alone now.” She said, returning a nod of her own before raising a finger and moving it between the two men. “You two behave, no rough housing!” She said sternly, her lips curling up into a little smile as she winked before departing. Now that the two were alone again, Luke moved to take a seat beside the bed.

“How are you feeling?” Luke asked, reaching out to rest a hand on his father’s. He groaned softly, gesturing with his head to a nearby jug of water and a glass, which Luke quickly filled. Anakin shifted carefully in his bed to accept the water as Luke helped him with it, smacking his now moistened lips.

“Like…I look.” He managed to croak out. Luke took him in for a moment, his eyes fighting to stop at the waist before the covers completely flattened at his knees. “…will live…possibly.”

“They’re going to take care of you, here. You’ll be alright.” Luke reassured, leaning in to better hear the older man’s strained voice. “I passed on what you said to me, what was it?”

Anakin’s unfocused eyes met Luke’s. He looked at his son questioningly before a smile curled over his lips. “Little surprise…trust me…”

They sat in silence for a while. There wasn’t much the two could really say, both with his father’s condition and the general circumstances of everything that had just happened. They had both saved each other’s lives after fighting for so long. It was like they were meeting for the very first time. Luke didn’t recognize the tyrant in this old man, if he was in fact an old man at all. He wondered if the rest of his comrades would be as softened as he was now, if they would share his compassion. Somehow he doubted all of them would be so understanding, he was prepared to fight back if he needed to. He was broken from his daze as he could feel his hand being squeezed. He looked down at his father. He couldn’t help himself.

“...what happened to you, father?”

The older man seemed to think for a moment, as though he’d never considered the question that had just been asked. “Mistakes…all this…my…mistakes…”

He never thought it would come to this, that he would see his greatest enemy so weak. His words stirred something in Luke. He spoke with regret, that he considered his sad, malformed state as a curse for his actions just confirmed what Luke had seen in him. He might not have always been an evil man, his regret in turn didn’t make him a good one either but there was good in him. This man could change.

“Thought…I’d lost you…” Anakin choked out. As Luke opened his mouth, he shook his head to silence him. “Thought I’d…lost you…lost…your sister…” The grip on Luke’s hand became tighter, it was the grip of a weak man fighting to show resolve. “Would…have killed you….won’t…won’t lose you again.”


	5. Chapter 5

The next few days of rest were well earned. Luke had spent most of the next two days confined to his quarters, trying to pretend that everything over the previous couple of days hadn’t happened. He had received word from Leia during his temporary solace. “They’ll be expecting you.” She had told him. “I want to have something to present to High Command, I’ll catch you up. We’ll do this together.”

Luke had time to familiarize himself with the facility, walking the halls of the base after getting changed, giving him the opportunity to collect his thoughts, to mentally prepare himself for what would come next.

As he walked towards the command centre, his stomach knotted. A sinking feeling slowly taking over. He didn’t even hear the voice behind before he felt a pair of furry forearms coil around him, squeezing him tight.

“Chewie!” Luke cried, turning the the Wookiee’s arms to return his embrace, his face mashed into a powerful, hairy chest. He managed to free himself before a large hand gripped his shoulder. “Didn’t even send us a postcard, kid. Thought we weren’t gonna get you back for a while.”

Han stood by his companion with a sly smile, a glint in his eye as he slapped Luke on the back before jostling him playfully. “It’s good to see you. Both of you.” Luke replied.

His friend was dressed in slightly more formal attire, formal for Han, at least. He wore a long duster with a shirt underneath, all but the top button done. Chewie leaned down, propping an elbow on Han’s shoulder. “So, Leia told us.”

“She told you?” Luke asked, wondering how Han would react and what exactly had been said. Han squared his jaw, his eyes averting Luke’s gaze, lightly darting as though he were trying to choose his words carefully.

“Everything. You got…some family, I’ll give you that. I can’t say I really understand what you’re up to.”

“I know it might seem strange. I don’t expect anybody to understand but I had to try, Han. I couldn’t just give up on him.”

Han bit his lip, shaking his head lightly. “Look, I don’t know what you’ve got in mind, kid, but I trust you. Can’t say I’m happy he’s here but you wouldn’t have done what you did if you weren’t sure of something.”

Chewie let out an encouraging growl, nodding before looking to Han and gesturing over Luke’s shoulder to the door at the end of the hall. “We’d best get a move on, they’ll be ready soon.”

“You’re coming?”

“Ah, hell, course we’re coming!” Han shot back, eyes wide and perplexed. “You’re gonna need all the help you can get, junior.”

Luke nodded, smiling before he turned to make his way towards the door, Han and Chewie behind him. He was right, it wasn’t them he had to convince but with them by his side, he could feel that knot in his stomach loosening, giving way to a slim glimmer of hope. The door to the command centre slid open, the three of them stepping inside.

It was a large ovular room with a section closed off by a sliding glass door where all the expected communications equipment were kept at various stations. The main room was mostly empty, the lack of bodies making the space look all the larger. Each representative stood around a circular holotable, the flat white disc on top surrounded by black, high backed chairs. As the door shut, the representatives pulled themselves from their conversation to turn and face the new arrivals. Their leader, Mon Mothma, was the first to speak.

“Gentlemen, welcome.” She said with a small nod, which Luke returned. “I was informed we would be receiving a late arrival, if you are happy to proceed in the meantime?” Mothma gestured with her hand for them to sit. Luke slowly took a seat, Han and Chewie remaining on their feet, standing either side of him as the representatives of High Command took their seats facing him. Sitting to her right was Admiral Gial Ackbar, a younger woman Luke didn’t recognize, in turn, sitting next to Ackbar. On Mothma’s left sat General Crix Madine who was shadowed by another man Luke couldn’t place.

“I don’t think that it even needs to be stated,” Mothma began, placing her hands on the table and interlacing her fingers. “You’ve been a monumental asset to us, Commander. Time and again you’ve pulled through for us, often at great risk to yourself.” She lifted her gaze, gesturing to Luke’s companions. “That goes to the both of you, also. We’ve been fully informed about our new arrival and we thought it proper to take some time to discuss where we go from here. Luke, the floor is yours.”

Luke leaned forward, a hand on the rim of the table as he began to think. How best could he formulate what he wanted to say in a way they would understand. Could he make his point palatable? “Thank you.” He started with, eyes scanning the panel. “We could say that we’ve achieved a great victory, the fall of the Emperor, his second in command now in our custody. My concern is for that prisoner, who without his help, not only might this victory be improbable but who was responsible for my survival.”

Madine scoffed, his brow furrowing as he crossed his arms. “Vader? We’re to sing the praise of Darth Vader now?”

“Let the lad have his say, Crix.” Ackbar cut in, casting an eye to his companion before turning to Luke. “We don’t doubt what you’re saying is correct, Commander Skywalker but you must understand that it leaves room for some scepticism. Not your words, I stress that,” the Admiral urged, pointing a finger, “merely of whom this testament speaks.”

“I do appreciate your concern, Admiral.” Luke replied with a nod, then looking to the others. “I don’t expect you to look past years of fighting for one action, that would be unreasonable.”

“Then perhaps you could explain to us, Commander, why we should see fit to give such treatment to a war criminal?”

“You can’t be serious, Crix. The rules of engagement wouldn’t allow anything less.”

“I’m not suggesting he receive no treatment at all. I hear no talk of a trial, of punishment from the boy. It strikes me as rather odd. I can’t be the only one to think so.”

“If I may.” Han said, raising a hand to pull focus. “I think we’re all in agreement, this is a pretty bad guy we’re talking about here. What’s odd is that he’d choose now to help. Maybe he got cold feet after all this time?”

“Ridiculous.” Madine spat. “Cold feet, after all this time? I think you’re being generous as to this…thing’s notion of a conscience .”

“There is good in him, that has to be clear.” Luke interjected, pulling Madine’s focus back to him. “Why else would he help me? Why else would he offer up any information at all?”

“I think Skywalker appears to have an overinflated sense of confidence.” The young woman finally spoke up. She was slender and sharp with a strong gaze and thick ringlets of dyed, purple hair. “Oh, of course, the man does one thing and suddenly he has the golden word, it would appear. The ability to sway a tyrant and I expect that he assumes that one action should have us all bow to his whim.”

“Amilyn, that’s quite enough.” Ackbar warned, tilting his head to look at her.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe I know you.” Luke said. He could feel a hand squeeze his shoulder. She cocked her head to look at him.

“Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo.” She replied with a smile, a smile with not a hint of pleasantly. “I don’t expect you to know me, Commander. Perhaps to you, the fact everyone knows who you are seems to be enough.”

“What I expect is civility.” Luke replied, lightly gripping at the edge of the table. “You’ll speak to me with common decency or you won’t speak to me at all.” He watched as Holdo straightened, seeming surprised that he would even dare speak back to her. “I did what I did for the good of the galaxy, for the good of _everyone_ in it.”

“Easy, tiger.” Han leaned in to whisper, hand on the back of his chair, the other on his friend’s shoulder. “Just keep your cool.”

“Then would you be so kind as to indulge us, Commander, as to why you’re so personally invested in this man’s case?”

Luke sat back, closing his eyes for a moment as he centred himself before opening them again to look at the panel. He wouldn’t give into anger. He knew that he was right, that his actions were just. “That man is my father.”

There was a dead silence then a chorus of voices, disbelieving eyes looking to one another in the search for answers. Rising her hand to quiet the room, Mothma looked directly at the young man. “Commander…Luke,” she began, trying to find the right words. “Anakin Skywalker is dead.”

“No.” Luke shook his head. He couldn’t help but smile, thankful that Lutz was careful to keep his father’s identity quiet. “Anakin Skywalker is here.”

“So the rumours were true,” Ackbar said as Mothma leaned on the table, momentarily lost in her own thoughts.

“How long have you known this?” Madine asked, eyes narrowing.

“Several months,” he replied. “He told me on Bespin but I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t know what to make of it.”

“And you didn’t think to notify your superiors of this?” Holdo interjected.

“I wasn’t aware that my familial ties to our enemy made him any less our enemy.” Luke replied. “In any case, I don’t think he could have been reasoned with in the same way, not then.”

“In any case indeed.” Said the unnamed man. He was strongly built, square jawed with thick, blonde hair and a shade of stubble. “Commander Skywalker has done us a service.” He met Luke’s eyes, smiling. “Commander Jorn Benik, good to finally meet the legend.” Benik introduced himself warmly before turning back to the others. “Perhaps the Commander is a little soft for some of our tastes but look what he’s done for us. While, like the General, I’d like to hear what’s to be done about our…let’s call him a guest, there’s no harm in a little compassion. To take Commander Skywalker’s views into account, what good is he to us at present? Right now, like it or not, I think we all want the same thing.”

“Thank you for the consideration, Commander Benik.” Luke said with a nod. Benik sat back, casually crossing his arms.

“This man needs to answer for what he’s done. We see eye to eye in some respect but not all.” Benik said, shifting to get comfortable. “I’m no animal, Commander, but I have no intention of being soft.”

“All I ask is that he’s given a fair chance.” Luke urged, holding his hands up. “He may still do some good. I just want him to be allowed to prove that.” Luke watched the faces of the panel lift as he heard the door open. When they stood he mirrored their actions, turning to face his sister. She entered at a brisk pace, a datapad tucked under her arm as she moved to the console of the holotable. She took some time to connect the device and pressed a few buttons before the table illuminated, projecting a hologram of her screen. 

“I’ve analysed the code given to Commander Skywalker by our guest. This is what we could find.” She said, bringing up an image of an access screen to the Imperial Database. “Not all of you may be aware, we’ve been trying to gain access to the Imperial records. It’s been…time consuming to say the least. What we did find however, was this.” Leia’s fingers glided over the surface of the pad. “Project Carrion. Hidden within the database is access to a secret account, emergency funds to keep the gears of the Imperial war machine turning. We’d never have even known this existed but with the code we were given…” she brought up a series of projections, all showing a series of graphs and diagrams, lists of figures.

“What are we looking at, Princess?” Ackbar questioned, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes, the others looking to each other.

“This diagram here,” Leia pointed to the hologram, “shows a hidden funding account. This was after we used the access code. A full list of funds, all ready to be drained and filtered out.”

“And he gave us the code to…show us this?” Madine’s eyes widened, his face turning pale as he looked to Leia for answers. She turned to meet his gaze. 

“He gave us both a means of access and a means to lockout the hidden account, meaning…”

“...the son of a bitch shut them down.” Han managed to get out, looking to his companions. “All those credits, they had access to all of that money.”

“The fuel keeping the war effort going,” Leia clarified. “He’s stopped it all.”

Mothma held her hand to her mouth, eyed wide as she scanned the hologram, a look of almost fearful contemplation. “Why? Why would he do that?”

“This changes everything,” Ackbar moved to Mothma, lightly taking her arm to steady her, pulling her from her daze. There was a quiet, muttered conversation between the two before she looked to Luke, “we’d like to see him.”

“I don’t think he’s well enough, at least not right now.” Luke said hesitantly.

“You misunderstand, lad.” Ackbar said, lifting a hand to reassure him. “We don’t wish to see him, we wish to _see_ him. That’s all.” 

“We’ll make all the necessary arrangements with his doctor.” Mothma added after straightening herself. “You needn’t worry about a thing.”

“Is there anything else anyone feels we need to discuss?” Asked Ackbar, his question greeted with a staggered group still reeling from the series of recent revelations. All were silent, unanimous in their shock. Mothma allowed a moment for the others to gather themselves, still no reply.

“Then this meeting is adjourned.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Can you sit up for me?” Dr. Tambra asked, frosting the windows of his room for privacy.

Anakin nodded slowly as he pushed the covers back, shuffling forward as best he could. He felt the strain in his arm as he tried to lift the rest of his body upwards, the sensation soon alleviated with the doctor’s assistance as she hooked her hands under his arms, carefully hoisting him up into a proper sitting position, edging him to the side of the bed.

“Okay,” she said, sitting down beside him, unlacing the fastenings of the gown. A small silver orb floated beside her, a black strip running horizontally through the middle. He regarded it curiously but he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. He was a unique case, of course they would want to document this.

“Can you hold your arms out straight for me?” He complied silently. “There we go.” She encouraged, gently pulling the gown forward, folding it over his waist so his upper half was exposed. His skin was an array of twisted scars and mottled, discoloured skin. From the base of his head to the small of his spine was evidence of surgical intervention and from what she could see, poorly done. In the middle of his spine there was a small lump which he winced every time she traced her fingers over.

“Back area,” she said, placing the index fingers of each hand carefully on his back to signal to the little machine. “Right here, centre spine.” The orb began to float closer to him, humming quietly as it tracked the areas she indicated with a blue light along his back and shoulders.

“I’m going to touch a few places,” she informed, still looking at the area of his back. “If you feel any discomfort, let me know.” He nodded, eyes closed.

She gently prodded several areas of his back, his shoulders and neck. He could feel her fingers on him but the sensation was muted. “Lift for me, please?” She patted his left arm lightly, he raised it in response. Dr. Tambra slowly felt along the length of his underarm, fingers moving to the juncture where flesh was fused with metal ports. She signalled to the little droid again. “Chest, focus on the lower sides.” The orb once again scanned him.

While his chest displayed a large amount of badly healed scarring, what got her attention were the lower parts of his sides. The skin was red and irritated, resembling friction burns, a stark contrast to the rest of the paleness.

Running her fingers carefully along the swollen sores, she looked to Anakin. “Do you know what’s caused these?”

Eyes still closed. “Suit. Ill fitted.”

“As sophisticated as the Empire’s resources were?” She questioned, eyeing him curiously. “Why would they make something so ill fitted on purpose?”

“Had his reasons.” He wheezed out, lightly shrugging to dismiss the conversation. She didn’t push the subject, she wouldn’t. He could sense it in her.

“We’ll get that looked at after this.” She promised, before turning her attention lower. Again, Anakin didn’t regard her. Lifting the gown away from his groin, she did a brief examination.

He let himself retreat, ebb slowly back into his mind as the doctor went about her work. This was nothing like he was used to. When he closed his eyes he could see floating black domes, whirling prongs and nipping, black pincers. He could hear the whizzing, malevolent machinery ripping charred fabric, peeling at crusting, blacked flesh. The light is what he remembered the most, the piercing light beaming down on him, blinding him. When he was a boy, his mother had told him that a bright, warm light was the last thing the living saw and the first their spirit would see before leaving the confines of this life to begin on its journey.

Instead, this body and soul were kept forcibly bound at the whims of a monster, a twisted being that saw fit to keep him living to serve him in his sinister, ungodly machinations. His suit was a prison, a coffin of chrome and steel. It only made sense that he would long for death.

“Anakin?” She shook him lightly, stirring him from his dark meditations. “Anakin, is everything alright?” He nodded slowly, shaking himself from his daze.

“You seemed to be away with yourself.” She said, almost with a little sigh of relief.

“Here is much better. Stay here. I think.” He cleared his throat, managing to keep his voice somewhat clear. She smiled, there was something in that smile that warmed him.

“Okay, just one more thing,” she said, signalling the droid over as she took a closer look at his ravaged face. “Corneas. Deep Scan.” The blue light quickly ran over his eyes before Dr. Tambra furrowed her brow in thought. While one of his eyes reacted to the light, his right barely reacted at all.

“I’m going to cover each eye and I want you to tell me how many fingers I’m holding up.” She said, first covering his right eye then holding up her hand. The older man squinted slightly, blinking. “Four.”

Satisfied, she smiled before repeating the process with his left. “One more time, please.”

This time however, after intently staring at her hand, he shook his head. “Not sure.”

Her lips became pert, she seemed to be considering something. Whatever concerns she had, she kept them to herself.

“I think we’re all done here.” She confirmed as she helped him back into his gown, easing him back down into bed. “We’ve got some work to do, you and I. We’ll see if we can take care of some of that skin. We’ll need to put some weight on you too, get you strong before we even think about anything internal.”

“Wouldn’t recommend.” He shook his head, screwing his face up.

“Care to explain for me?” She asked, turning to face him before reaching the door, raising an eyebrow. He gestured to his stomach.

“Don’t need to eat.” He said, matter of factly. “Haven’t needed to. Not properly in a long time.” He lightly patted his stomach. “Implanted bladder. Did the job.”

At that the doctor’s eyes widened before they slowly began to narrow, her lips thinning to the point of almost non existence. She stood firm as she regarded him. She kept her cool but it was still evident. This little woman was angry.

“Oh, all the more reason.” Dr. Tambra replied, slowly inhaling through her nose, calming herself before continuing. “That will be added to your file and we will see about correcting it. You aren’t a machine, you’re a man and a man must eat. Eating is a pleasure; I won’t have it taken from one of my patients. We’ll start you off on soft foods. Nutrient paste for now.”

His tongue flicked in his mouth at the thought. That bland, dull muck sliding down his gullet, the thought was enough to make him retch. “Afraid I can’t.” He managed.

“You’d be surprised.” She smiled, the door sliding open behind her. “A small sacrifice for a much greater reward, I promise you that. Now get some rest, I’ll be through to check on you in a while.” Then she departed, leaving him alone.

The words stuck in his mind, leaving him unable to shake them. _You aren’t a machine, you’re a man_. He had not thought of himself as such for a long time. He was blind to that fact. With the strength he had possessed during his time in the Empire, he was unmatched, but he was not an agent of his own fate. He was a supplicant. A chained dog baited to the will of his master. Anakin thought on this, not as the machine they made but as the man Dr. Tambra could still see in him despite his sins. He closed his eyes, tensing his jaw as if to hold back a shout building up in him. The shout was fuelled by bile and hate. Hate had destroyed him; now he must be calm.

 _Your focus determines your reality_. His eyes snapped open, the words coming to him as though they had just been uttered for the first time. Whatever dark clouds descended over him, memories of those bygone days, the mists of time could never silence the words of his first master. Even when he would try to block them out to carry out his ill deeds, he could only quiet that voice, never shut it out. Be damned to the Sith and their ways. Be damned to the Jedi in equal measure. He would never be so blind again. Only the words of his master, only in the Force would he trust.

He would wrestle with his hate and keep it pinned. He would master his anger; never again allow it to become his master. It cost him everything. He closed his eyes and focused, opening his hand and waited as a few moments past before his fingers were able to curl around the glass that sat on the nearby tray, his fist only closing when he felt the weight of the water in his hand. Anakin drank deep as he spoke. “My focus _will_ determine _my_ reality.”


	7. Chapter 7

Luke settled down into a seat with his tray after lining up with a few of the other pilots. The food was good as far as military grade went, better than what they were used to at the beginning of the war. He ate sparingly, pushing his mash and leaf greens around their compartments, lightly picking at a strip of meat. He didn’t lift his eyes when he heard the two chairs adjacent to him being pulled out. 

“Penny for your thoughts, kid?” Han asked leaning in, resting his elbows on the table.

“Huh?” The Jedi shrugged, taking a mouthful of food. “Just thinking, I guess.”

“Your old man?” Han asked, cocking his brow, glancing from Luke to Chewie who let out a little grunt of encouragement, setting a hand on Luke’s shoulder.

“Everything.” Luke admitted. He couldn’t explain it, he knew he should be relieved to a degree. He was alive. His father was alive. “Everything feels…upside down.”

“Ah, c’mon. Look,” Han urged, lightly wrapping Luke’s tray to get the young Jedi to lift his gaze. He started to play with his hands as he went on. “I know you probably think this should be everything done and dusted. Hell, I was hoping for the same, myself. The bad guys are still out there but your pop is here. The folks at the big table know what they’re doing. You’ve got some friends there, at least. All we can do now is, well, wait and see.”

“I know,” Luke sighed. “I just wish I could do more.”

Han let out a dry cough, smile widening across his face as he shook his head. “When I look at what you’ve done so far, I’d love to see what you’d be able to do when you step up your game.” His smile shouldn’t have been an entirely unique trait but there was only one smile like Han Solo’s, it was cocky but somehow inspired confidence. “That Nerf strip?” He asked, reaching across to lift a chunk of meat from Luke’s tray only for it to be quickly dropped when Chewie reached across to wrap his knuckles.

Luke let out a laugh as Han rubbed the back of his hand, he and Chewie trading each other barbed looks as the young man’s focus was pulled by an officer, who marched into the mess hall with purpose. This was not a woman just after a meal. “Attention!” She called, “attention! We have an assignment and are looking for volunteers.” When his gaze returned to his friend, Han’s eyebrow was raised. He gestured towards the officer and shrugged. Luke knew right away what he was getting at. He pushed his tray aside, the three of them standing as Chewie raised his hand, calling out to the officer. She crossed the room quickly.

“Commander Skywalker, General Solo.” She saluted, her eyes moving across the three. “Big guy. Thank you. You’re doing us a real favour with this one.”

“What have we got?” Han asked, standing with his hands on his hips.

“Let’s walk and talk.” The officer replied, the four leaving the mess hall and crossing the courtyard. “This is a locate and rescue mission,” she continued, “one of our agents went dark on us before sending out a distress signal.”

“Do we have any idea of how much danger this agent might be in?” Luke asked, the officer glanced over her shoulder to the young Jedi as they walked.

“The signal was lost only to reappear yesterday.” She replied. “It’s weak but consistent. The woman in question is tough, there’s no doubt, but we can’t say for sure what she’s gotten herself into.” 

“Where we headed?” Han jumped in. The woman turned on her heels, producing a silver memory drive which Chewie reached across to accept.

“Everything you need to know is on that drive. My apologies, we should have been able to brief you more appropriately but we feel this is a matter of great importance.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Luke said with a nod, smiling. “We’re happy to help.”

They exchanged salutes with the officer and the three diverted their course towards one of the hangers. As they approached, Han spun on his heel, walking backwards towards the Falcon, his arms extended. “The more things change, huh? Let’s go be heroes, fellas.” 

***

The three stood outside the hospital room as the doctor emerged to greet them. She extended a hand, each of the representatives reaching to accept in turn. The group dressed modestly, a more causal appearance hopefully proving less intimidating. Mothma wearing a simple white robe, Ackbar in a jumpsuit and boots, Leia in a jacket and trousers.

“Dr. Chel Tambra,” she nodded, her grip firm with her shake, “it’s a pleasure.”

“Our pleasure, Doctor. I assure you.” Mothma offered, nodding in return. “I’d like to clarify again, we don’t wish to intrude.”

“We’ll follow your lead. Your word is law.” Ackbar confirmed.

“He looks tired, ill or distressed, you’ll be asked to leave. Without question.” Dr. Tambra stated plainly, regarding her guests. “If you want to talk, keep any questions you may have brief.”

“Of course.”

“Also, I’d ask you to keep slightly to the left hand side of the room when speaking to him.”

“Why might that be?” Leia asked, her brow furrowing quizzically.

“He appears to be blind in his right eye.”

Glances travelled between the three, Leia’s gaze then moving to the window outside of his room. The glass was clear, a shape could be made out in the bed but even without fading the window, a modicum of privacy could be kept from the outside. Dr. Trambra then slowly stepped into the room, signalling to the others.

“Anakin, you have some visitors here to see you.” She said softly, moving to give them space to enter. They moved into the left side of the room, just as the doctor had instructed. Leia felt her stomach sink when she first saw him. This was her father. The scourge of the galaxy. Could it have been? The feeling she had always felt in his presence was different, she almost didn’t believe this man was who Luke claimed him to be.

“Have a seat there, ma’am.” Dr. Tambra urged. “His good eye’s still a little foggy.”

Mothma did as asked, lowering herself into the seat set out beside the bed. The man in the bed slowly turned his head to look at her. A moment past before she finally spoke. “You…did us a great service. I’d like to thank you.”

He swallowed, moving up push himself up slightly. “Didn’t beat all your enemies for you.”

“No, but you caused quite a dent in things.” She replied with a smile. “May I ask why you would do that for us?”

“What do I owe them?”

Leia tightened a little when she heard him say it. It made no sense, first the code, now such hatred in his voice when he spoke of his allies. Could it have been them who had done this to him?

“All the same, we do appreciate it greatly.” Mothma leaned in, her face close to his as she thought for a short moment before continuing. “Anakin. You know me, don’t you?”

She could see his shoulders tense. The fact that it was Mothma using his name had an obvious effect on him. “Yes.”

“Can you remember when we first met properly?”

His eyes narrowed as if he were looking through a mist, searching for some far off landmark. He licked his lips. “It was a gala. Was there with my master. You were in green, made a toast with the…Senator.”

She furrowed her brow, seemingly unable to even comprehend the man lying before her. “What on earth happened to you, Anakin? What did they do?”

He opened his mouth as if to speak only to close it quickly, weakly shaking his head. His chest heaved slightly as he swallowed, eyes closed. “No mistake forgotten. Wear my mistakes.” He leaned forward, jaw tightening as he heaved again.

“Anakin, what’s the matter?” Dr. Tambra cut in, Mothma moving from her chair and retreating to clear space. She helped sit him up, his spine curling hard as he let out a loud, wet wretch. Leia quickly moved past Ackbar to reach the bedside tray, grabbing the pan sitting on top. She leaned across the grip bar on the side of the bed, Anakin moving quickly to her, gripping the bar tightly.

“That’s it, that’s it!” Leia urged, Anakin’s face contorting as he leaned in further. She could feel his fingers clench, his hand against hers as his body allowed itself to surrender. The discharge hit the pan with a hard splash, staining his bottom lip a greyish blue as his throat bulged and tensed, his eyes welling, vomiting forcefully while the doctor rubbed and slapped his back to encourage him to let it out. “You’re alright, just let it out.”

Mothma and Ackbar didn’t need to be told before they quickly stepped back, making their way out as to afford him some dignity. The doctor slowly shifted around Leia, taking her shoulder as she reached to take the pan. “I’ll take it from here, Princess. You go now, I’ll be with you when I get him sorted.”

“Of course. Of course.” Leia agreed, moving back and making her way towards the door. As she looked back before leaving, their eyes met. Those watery, welling eyes locked with hers. They looked almost soft for a moment, blinking through tears before his face screwed up again, continuing to wretch as she quickly moved into the hall to join her colleagues.

Ackbar shook his head. “Disgusting. Utterly abhorrent.” He grunted, his steps heavy as he turned on his heels, pacing quickly. “What the hell is wrong with that man?”

“Calm yourself, Gial.” Mothma urged, glancing at her colleague as he looked about fit to burst. “This isn’t the place.”

“Well, at least they were consistent, I suppose. Treat their enemies and their friends with cruelty in equal measure. It’s barbarous.” Ackbar continued, his voice shaking in his throat. Mothma moved to him quickly, resting a hand on his shoulder and taking his with the other.

“Your anger is justified, friend. Please, just not here.” She soothed. Ackbar closed his eyes, breathing slowly, only opening them again when he had calmed.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” The Mon Calamari shook his head, squeezing Mothma’s hand lightly. “None at all.”

“One thing is clear.” Leia finally managed to speak up. “What we’ve seen makes it evident as to why he gave us those codes. Why he killed the Emperor, as Luke said. He may not be a blameless victim but they were just as guilty of actions against _him_.”

The three heads turned as the door opened, Dr. Tambra stepping out into the hall with a sigh. “He’s settled now.”

“If we’ve caused this in any way, we offer our sincerest apologises, Dr. Tambra.” Ackbar said, letting go of Mothma’s hand, moving to place his hands behind his back.

“No need. I had just started trying to get him to eat. I’m afraid he was too weak for what I gave him.” She brushed her hair back, a hint of frustration on her face.

“Doctor,” Leia began, slowly moving to the other woman. “What exactly _is_ wrong with him? The man I knew, it…it doesn’t make any sense to me why he could be so ill.”

“The short answer, Princess, is that there are a multitude of ailments effecting him. Almost all of them appear to be old, very old.”

“If I may,” Mothma jumped in, approaching the doctor. “I’d like to have a record of everything that you discover. For us to insure his health, I believe it would help if we too knew what you were fighting.”

“Dr. Lutz and I have already began compiling a file.” Dr. Tambra nodded. “It’s extensive to say the least. I can forward you any of my findings.”

“Thank you. We’ll take up no more of your time.”

Each of the three offered the doctor a nod of gratitude before making their way down the hall towards the reception area. Both Leia and Ackbar kept their eyes fixed on their leader, her face giving them the impression she was deep in thought.

“What are you planning, Mothma?” Leia asked her. The older woman spared her a glance before returning to contemplation.

“We must treat this man, that much is obvious. While he cannot be allowed to simply have his crimes forgotten, I don’t agree with Crix that he should just be thrown to the dogs either.”

“What would you suggest?” Ackbar prodded, eager to coax the answer from her.

“I believe the young commander desired greatly for us to allow him the opportunity to prove himself to us. He helped us with no qualms, it stands to reason that he may do so again.”

The two halted, allowing Mothma to continue walking before she stopped, slowly turning to face her companions. “He said that he wore his mistakes, as though they were sins or proof of a punishment he were still receiving. If he is truly repentant, those mistakes are his sentence. Perhaps it is time to allow him his service.”


	8. Chapter 8

Luke studied the information on the drive intently as the Falcon ended its jump, taking them into the Bryx Sector in the Mid Rim. He couldn’t shake his nerves. As much damage as they’d inflicted over the past week, the Empire still had a firm grip on many of the planets in this sector. That could mean they’d have an easier time, due to the possible lack of their presence; it was the alternative that worried him. They would be digging in hard to defend what territory they still had.

“The signal seems to be strongest in this area, right here.” Han said, pointing to the wire framed sector map on the screen. Chewie leaned over to look, giving a questioning huff as he circled his index finger at the screen. Han looked over his shoulder at the Wookiee, brow raised.

“What do you mean, home in on it?” He asked with an edge to his voice. Chewie nodded to the monitor, repeating the action with his finger. Han threw up his hands.

“I can’t home in on it. This is signal strength, it’s too weak to try and pinpoint where it comes from.” He shifted to the edge of his seat, pressing his finger to the glass. “See, this is the generalized area. It’s not strong enough to pinpoint its exact location.”

Luke's eyes moved to the window, watching the planet approach before looking back down to the map, the section of the planet where the signal originated lit up in a faint blue. It would be a huge amount of ground to cover. Chewie shook his head, giving a sweeping motion with his palm before hooting back at Han.

“And how’s that my fault, huh?”

“Wait a second,” Luke cut in. He narrowed his eyes, his thumb resting on his bottom lip. “The signal’s concentrated in this area. They said it was weak but consistent. What if she’s sending her signal sparingly? If she keeps the area of detection as small as possible…”

Chewie cocked his head, giving a concerned growl. Han looked between his two companions, rubbing a hand over his face. “They’re looking for her. Ah, hell.”

It stood to reason that if the agent was sending out a signal from the planet’s surface then the occupying forces would be able to detect it. Each time she sent it out it would narrow the search area down, making her easier to locate. For whatever reason, she couldn’t leave and the dragnet was getting smaller and smaller.

“Do we have any more information on this planet?” Han asked, the gears in his head starting to turn.

“No more than what’s on the drive. It’s practically a non entity.”

“Then we’ve no clue what we’re walking into.” Han said with a nod. He got up slowly and walked down the hall, disappearing for a moment. When he returned, Luke could see an extra holster on his hip before sitting down. He’d never seen Han cautious enough to warrant a second blaster. He looked to his young friend, nodding, reaching for the controls and putting the Falcon back into manual flight. They would need to be on their guard. Han reached to activate the comm, calling in to request permission to land. It took a few minutes before he could get a reply from a limited service port. Best to get in and out quietly. He blew out slowly, “here goes nothing.”

***

Junjito was a frigid world. Nowhere near as cold as Hoth or its neighbouring Kijimi but enough to give an off worlder pause. Han paid the port owner his fee, including a hefty bribe to keep anyone away from the section they had docked in. The squat little humanoid was all too happy to accept their generosity.

“Boy, geez. Why don’tcha breathe that air in, fellas?” Han said in the high, nasally voice that he had given his persona. “It’s conditions like this’ll make a man strong, ain’t that right, friend?”

The little alien laughed, flashing a grin that exposed small, gnarled teeth. “You’ll find good business here, Mr. Denden. The locals will be sure to love you!”

“Yeah, not in the way I’ll probably like.” Han muttered under his breath as they exited the port, making their way out onto the street. The air was slightly misty but the lack of a hard wind kept things tolerable. The three were careful in their approach, each dawning a disguise. Han in a thick duster with a fur lined hood, Luke in a poncho with heavy gloves and boots. They had to practically wrestle Chewie into his own parka and pants, complete with face mask and goggles; at least gloves and boots wouldn’t be an issue, the Wookiee’s hands and feet more than passable as accessories to his outfit.

The streets were cobbled, the buildings made of hard grey stone, roofed with slopping red slates. Snow lightly crunched underfoot as they walked past the locals, observing vendors and traders the deeper they got into the city. Luke’s eyes scanned through the crowds of people. Intermingled with the locals marched patrols of stormtroopers in uniforms not too dissimilar from the gear they wore on the battle of Hoth. As they walked under an archway, the three came face to face with a patrol of troopers, the head of their number roughly pushing Luke aside.

“Watch it!” He barked, seizing Luke’s poncho and all but throwing him against the brick wall. Han stepped in with his hands up to pacify the men.

“Now, now, fellas,” he began in the whining droll of Mr. Denden, a ridiculous smile painted across his face. “There’s no need for that, my associates and I are just…”

The voice of Han’s trader persona was cut short when one of the troopers pointed his rifle at him, aiming directly at the centre of his face. The others stood fast, fingers creeping slowly to their triggers. Luke watched carefully, the hilt of his saber cradled lightly in his hand.

“Are you looking for trouble?” One of the troopers questioned. “You want to get yourselves arrested, is that it?”

“Oh, no. No!” Han stammered out, waving his hands, palms up and passive. “I’m sorry to trouble you fine gentlemen, we’ll be on our way.”

“Then be quick about it,” the first growled, keeping his rifle levelled in Han’s face as he reached out, gripping him firmly by the collar and pulling him out of the way. “Move!”

Two of the troopers ushered Chewie on with a wave of their guns. Their companions pushing Luke and Han out the opposite side of the archway, almost taking them off their feet as they resumed their patrol. Luke slowly released his grip on his lightsaber.

“Something’s got those boys on edge.” Han scoffed, glancing at Luke. “Almost makes you wonder what it is.”

It was at least clear they were in the right part of town, the local garrison in an obvious spin over their unwanted arrival still hiding in the area. Luke followed Han’s lead as he took them through the streets, the orange lights from the buildings shining off the icy cobbles, steam wafting from the grates in the ground. Han stuck his hands into his coat, slipping past a drunken group exiting a nearby cantina, Luke weaving past the unsteady bodies.

Inside, the space was open, dimly lit aside from the odd circular shafts of orange light that shone down on the patrons as they moved through the bar. Han managed to find themselves a nook towards the back of the room with a view of the door. They ordered drinks and tried to look conspicuous as Han pulled the signal tracker out of his coat and regarded it carefully, quickly hiding it under the table while the were being served. He took a long drink before finally speaking.

“She doesn’t have a ship. That means she’s jury rigged her signalling device.”

“How could she be sending out a signal that strong?” Luke asked, holding his glass for effect. He had no intention of letting his awareness being hampered in the slightest.

“Well, she could be using a ship’s transmitter and then some bits and pieces to make it work. So she probably flew in herself and can’t leave.”

It was clever. If she was unable to use her ship she could have just cannibalized the transmitter and then put something together herself. Luke shook his head, he felt stupid for not thinking of it himself. He traced the rim of his glass with his finger as he looked around the room. He swore he could sense something but the bar was too dingy, too many voices. Just when he thought he had something, his concentration was broken when the door slid open.

“Oh, here we go.” Han muttered, taking another drink and looking between his two friends. “Just keep your heads down, boys.”

There were six of them in all. Each man had a tight grip on his blaster as they trudged down the steps into the bar. The place went quiet for a moment, most of the patrons keeping their eyes forward, finishing their food or drink. The six white helmets slowly turned, surveying the crowd. One of them, who Luke assumed to be their leader, walked towards the bar, the other men standing there moving aside to give him space. The bartender was quick to place a drink in front of them.

“There look like there’s only one of me?” The trooper asked. Luke could hear him from where he was seated. This man wanted his voice to be heard. The bartender stopped one of his serving girls from tending to some of the others in the cantina, pointing to the five other men, urging her to bring them drinks where they stood.

“We’re looking for a stranger. A woman.” The squad leader said, lifting his helmet just high enough to enable him to take a drink, draining the container. He set it back down on the countertop. “Have you seen anyone suspicious?”

Luke watched as one of the troopers snatched the glass offered to him by the serving girl, the white helmet turned slowly before he approached their table. “You got a staring problem, short stack?”

“I’m sorry, I just…”

“You’re sorry nothing. Say, you’re not from around here, are you?”

“We’re traders,” Han cut in, extending his hand. “John Denden. This is…”

“I wasn’t asking you,” the stormtrooper snapped in response, “I was asking him. I’ve got a couple of questions for you, small fry.”

Luke’s eyes found the man’s visor. He took his hand off his glass, slowly waving it through the air, low enough that his fellows wouldn’t see. “You have nothing to ask me.”

He stood blankly for a moment before replying. “…I have nothing to ask you.”

“You’ll be on your way now.” Luke said, a confidence in his voice.

“I’ll be on my way now.” The trooper mimicked, turning slowly and making his way back to his compatriots. Han and Chewie’s heads slowly turned to look at him. He closed his eyes for a moment, quieting his mind before opening them again. That’s when he saw it. A figure, robed, with a high hood, slipped from one of the booths and walked towards the back door; they turned ever so slightly while the stormtroopers were busy questioning the patrons. Luke nodded to his companions, getting up and crossing the room. He was quick and quiet, making sure to avoid the overhead lights, using the bodies of standing patrons to slip out the back, Han and Chewie on his heels.

“Where are we going?” Han asked when they were outside. Luke quickly climbed the steps, turning his head, following after the figure as he saw them move down the alley to his left. He was careful to keep his distance, sticking to the shadows. He could feel the Force, its strength. This person wasn’t even trying to conceal it.

The three followed the stranger through the back alleys of the city, ducking around corners and keeping themselves pressed to walls. They stopped sharply when they saw the figure skid to a quick halt. There where three of them the stranger mustn’t have spotted, squatted into an alcove, helmets tilted up to smoke. They stood quickly, one of them moving to circle behind the stranger as the other two barred their path.

“Where do you think you’re going?” One of them demanded, lifting his rifle to aim at the figure. “Answer me.”

Luke glanced over his shoulder to his friends, Han nodding as they slowly edged forward.

“I said, where are you going? Identify yourself!” The trooper shouted again, stepping forward and jabbing his blaster in the stranger’s face. “Now!”

“Stop playing around.” The other cut in. “Book him or just shoot him.”

The first trooper brought his blaster back, readying to smash the stranger in the face; they moved to brace for the oncoming blow, reaching for something under their robe. A loud jet of steam shot up from the ground. This was their moment.

Luke moved first, darting for the nearest trooper and stomping hard on the back of the man’s leg. He gripped his shoulders as he fell, slamming his head into the side of the wall. The stranger turned in shock as Chewie moved straight past them, closing his fists together, bringing them down on one of the other trooper’s heads. The last man didn’t even have a chance to level his rifle at the disguised Wookiee, Han quickly drawing from his hip and shooting him centre mass, another loud spray of the steam concealing most of the noise.

As the last trooper fell, the stranger moved, bringing gloved hands out from under their robes. With a flick of each wrist, two white beams extended, one pinning Han against the wall, the other moving to aim at Luke’s throat. He reacted quickly, throwing his arm up and activating his own saber, batting the other down and holding it in place. Chewie leaned in, letting out a loud roar into the stranger’s covered face. They held fast but didn’t press the attack.

“You’re one of us?” They finally spoke, a woman's voice muffled behind the mask. Dark, goggled eyes regarded Luke. “Why are you’re following me?”

“Like you said, we’re one of you.” Han said, a hint of a barb in his voice as he remained pinned to the wall.

“That’s not what she meant.” Luke corrected, eyes still on the stranger. "We are one of you. I’m one of…you’re Fulcrum, aren’t you?”

The figure looked between the three carefully for a moment before withdrawing her sabers, confirming Luke’s claim without even a word. He withdrew his blade in turn, reattaching it to his belt. “How many more are there?” She asked.

“I don’t know. I always thought I was…”

“The _Alliance_ , how many more of you are there?”

Luke’s face flushed. He should have known what she meant but he was too caught up in the moment. She was a Jedi. There were still Jedi out there. Han leaned off the wall and stepped forward carefully. “Sister, we’re all you’re getting. Now I don’t know about you but I think it would be a good idea to put some distance between us and these guys.”

She turned to Han, nodding quickly before continuing up the alley. Han reached out, calling to her. “The port’s this way!”

“I can’t leave yet. I need to get something.”

Han threw up his hands, tossing his head back. “Lady, I did not fly out here just to get myself killed for you.”

“It’s important.” She snapped, stepping toe to toe with him. “I have information at my hideout, I can’t return empty handed.” She turned to regard Luke. “Please.” There was desperation in her voice. Luke felt for her. Coming so far and needing rescued only to have her efforts wasted, to feel like she’d failed. She wouldn’t be fighting with Han if her intel wasn’t important.

“You’ll take us there but we need to be quick. These guys are gunning hard for you.”

She nodded, Luke could hear a sigh of relief from behind her mask. “We’re not far. Stay close to me and I’ll take you there. I promise, you won’t regret this.”

She turned quickly, marching to the mouth of the alley, peering around the corner into the main street, Luke and the others shadowing her. She reached back without looking, pressing her hand to Luke’s chest. She nodded, darting across the street and into the neighbouring alleyway, the others following suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're still sort or reeling a little from all the attention this story has received in what feels like such a short time frame! Thank you to everyone who has subscribed, bookmarked, commented or left kudos; even those who have just read the story, thank you all. We hope you continue to enjoy as much as you have so far, more still to come!


	9. Chapter 9

Fulcrum had chosen her lair carefully. This part of town was fairly derelict, a stone’s throw away from the more industrial part of the district, home to the local workers who toiled in factories and nearby quarry. The place looked to be abandoned for some time, little more than a table and an undressed bed.

“You’ve been staying here this whole time?” Luke asked, taking in the place. Han busied himself examining her homemade signal booster while Chewie had finally discarded his mask, glancing out the window overlooking the street as he slung his bowcaster off his shoulder, lying it against the wall.

“I’m not a welcome face here,” she replied, pulling back her hood and slowly removing her own mask, “I couldn’t exactly bunk down at the nearest tavern.”

She had a long face with high, defined cheekbones. Her eyes were a sharp blue, traces of white lining her brow and cheeks on an otherwise vibrant orange face. Luke didn’t know what to expect when meeting this agent but he didn’t imagine that she would be this beautiful.

“You must have made some entrance to stir them up like this.” Han called out from over his shoulder. “How the hell did you put all this together?”

“My master was a real gear head. I picked up a thing or two.” She replied, crossing to the bed and getting down onto her knees, reaching under and sliding out a sturdy looking satchel. “As for them, well, it would appear I was expected.”

“Expected?” Luke questioned. “They knew you were coming?”

“My informant told me this was a temporary garrison, that it was being set up as a shipping route. It turns out ‘being set up’ in this case means ‘armed and in full force.’ Apparently we got our wires crossed on definitions.” Fulcrum all but spat back, her lips thinning as her brown furrowed. She opened the satchel, taking out a pair of microbinoculars and a small camera, setting them aside before rummaging deeper, pulling out a small black box. “Here we are.”

“What is that?”

“A drive converter. My trip here wasn’t a complete waste.”

“You maybe want to let us in on the secret, sister?” Han asked, moving from the jury rigged machinery to approach.

“It’s not _sister_. And it won’t be a secret for very long.” She pressed a button and a small disc slowly emerged. “Junjito could be their back door back into the Mid Rim proper if left unchecked.”

“They’re fully garrisoned here already.” Luke said, his voice sinking with his stomach. He watched as she packed her things again, securing the bag before slipping the disc under her robe. Her eyes met Luke’s.

“That’s putting it mildly.” She stood slowly, turning to look at the three. “The planet’s the sight of an Imperial shipyard.”

They tensed at her words, looking to each other as if to confirm they’d received the same information. Luke felt his cheeks heat up, his face tightening into a grimace. He felt like a foolish child. The Emperor’s death was a great blow but why did he assume they would just stop? He eyes shot back to Fulcrum’s. “We need to get this back to the Alliance. We can’t leave them unchallenged here.”

“That’s the idea.” Fulcrum concurred with a nod. “We hit them hard and we hit them while they’re still reeling.”

Chewie let out a quiet hoot, pulling their attention as he gestured to the window with his head before bending down to take up his weapon. The others moved to take a peek, hastily moving back as soon as they’d looked. Fulcrum’s eyes widened as she bit her bottom lip. “No. No, no…”

Chewie reached out to seize her shoulder, giving her a shake to pull her focus to him before growling quizzically at her. She shook her head. 

“I-uh…I don’t understand…”

“Another way out.” Luke repeated. “Is there any other way out?”

She thought for a moment before nodding. “The old heating system. In the basement. We could use that.”

“How’s that gonna help us any?” Han asked, earning him a look from the Togruta.

“Where do you think the steam’s suppose to go?”

***

They were thankfully able to squeeze out through the sizeable duct leading outside from the building’s basement, taking the group back into the tight, intertwining network of alleyways. Luke and Fulcrum took up the lead, providing Han and Chewie with added cover.

The weaved through the back streets, heads turning, ears straining to try and catch any sound other than their own footfalls. As they stopped at an intersecting street, Chewie turned to look back down the alleyway, letting out a growl as he aimed his bowcaster down the path the group had just came. They were searching the alleys.

“We have to go.” Han whispered up the group, Fulcrum moving to peer around the corner to look out into the street.

“We’ve got a patrol on the move here.” She said, concern in her voice. “If we move now, they’ll see us.”

“If we don’t move now _these_ guys will.” Han shot back as Chewie let out a little whine, gripping at his bowcaster, preparing to fire. Luke took Fulcrum by the shoulder and moved her aside. He looked down into the street, then back at the group. “Get ready to follow after me.” He could feel her try to grab him as he ran out into the street, skidding on the ice as he came into their path.

“Who goes there?” One of them shouted. Luke reached under his poncho, drawing his saber.

“Take him down!” Screamed their squad leader, the troopers aiming their blasters, opening fire. The group sprang out from the alley, staying close behind Luke as he bounced the blaster fire back at the squadron. “Push forward!” Luke called out over the firing.

They moved down the street, Fulcrum joining the fray with her twin sabers, Han and Chewie taking up the flank. Luke tilted his head when he heard Chewie’s bowcaster fire, blasting against the wall of the alleyway they’d just emerged from. “Keep ‘em pinned!” Han cried, withdrawing both blasters and firing, keeping the pursuing stormtroopers from leaving the alley, forcing them to fire blind in return.

Luke threw his arm in a horizontal swing, batting two blasts aside, one hitting its mark, the other scorching the cobbles. Fulcrum brought her fists up in light jabs, batting back two shots, quickly stepping to dodge a third before spinning her body, deflecting a forth. They sprinted forward, throwing themselves into an alley further down the street, Han turning quickly to unload both blasters into the last two remaining trooper’s chests before following, he and the Wookiee close behind.

They weaved through the tight pathways, pushing off the corners, springing off walls and rapidly changing direction after every other opening. It was about speed and distance now. The word would be out and the enemy would be well aware that they’d be trying to escape. All they needed to do was cut them off.

“That’s far enough!” Called a stormtrooper, Luke skidding to stop himself from ploughing right into them as they stood at the mouth of the alley. Their leader gestured with his head as a few from the platoon split off, leaving the remainder poised and ready to fire. The group packed in tight and stared down their barrels. They were sending the others to cut off their escape. Luke had enough room to extend his arms but not enough for an effective swing, anything he knocked back would be inaccurate and messy. Two of the troopers aimed at his feet, shooting at the space in front to make him dance backwards, causing almost uproarious laughter from the rest of the men.

“If you guys have any ideas, I’d love to hear ‘em.” Han muttered, gripping at his blasters futilely with nowhere to go. Luke closed his eyes for a moment, trying to think, when he suddenly heard the sound of leather on cobble. He felt a pressure on his shoulder, fingers squeezing him as the sound of stone under booted feet moved past his ear. As _Fulcrum_ moved past his ear.

Luke’s eyes followed her, the troopers letting out staggered gasps as the woman ran across the wall of the alleyway, using Luke to balance herself as she ran over his head. She twisted her body in mid air, throwing her saber towards the back of the group that barred their way, the men desperately scattering to avoid it. As they did, she redrew her saber’s sister blade, balling up and smashing down into the squad leader, knees to his chest. She was off him as soon as he breathlessly hit the ground, catching her thrown saber as it returned to her.

Luke sprang from the alley, throwing his foot up to kick the downed man now staggering to his feet, Chewie and Han following quickly. Chewie aimed over the top of his young friend, shooting a nearby trooper, knocking him back with such a force that the body sent two of his comrades to the ground with him. Han slipped in behind the woman, moving with her, back to back as he covered her rear, allowing her to concentrate on the men in front. The confident, sizeable squad of men had now thinned and scattered, falling back into cover, giving the four rebels a chance to turn on their heels, sprinting down the street towards the port.

***

The group were breathless by the time they had quickly boarded, Han throwing a few more credits the port owner’s way to forget anything he’d just seen this evening. The Falcon took off quickly, Han’s thumbing at the controls as three TIE fighters screamed across the Falcon’s cockpit. “Ah, will you assholes just leave me alone!”

Luke didn’t need to be told before making his way down to one of the gunner’s seats, throwing himself down. He could hear the voices behind him.

“Why can’t we just outrun them?” Fulcrum asked him. Luke could already picture Han’s jaw tightening, no doubt shooting daggers at the enemy ships.

“When I’m done, they’ll think twice about chasing.”

Han threw the ship into a series of sharp twists and turns, steering clear of speeding fighter’s shots, Luke laying down fire to scatter their formation. The shots he fired were mostly warnings but the pilots were good, weaving expertly around each other as Luke readjusted his aim after every other shot, keeping them from bunching up.

“How about you kill two birds with one stone, kid,” Han’s voice suggested over the ship’s intercom, “fifty says you can’t.”

“Just watch me!” Luke fired back. Han threw the ship into another sharp turn before rolling her, an impressive manoeuvre for a vessel of her size. At the apex of the turn, Luke adjusted his aim for one of the rearmost fighters. He took the shot, the beam clipping the wing and sending the ship into the one in front, both erupting into a large ball of flame.

“Whoo! Get some!” He could hear Han shout as the ship righted itself, the Falcon jumping into hyperspace just as it aligned with the remaining TIE fighter’s path, blasting the ship to pieces as the inky black around them transformed into a series of darting streaks of light.

Luke felt as though a weight had lifted as he ascended back up to the main deck. Fulcrum was sitting hunched over the holotable, eyes closed as she breathed steadily. Luke moved to sit on the edge of the seat next to her.

“Hey, you ok?” He asked, reaching out to take her by the shoulder. “You were really something.”

She opened her eyes, turning to face him. “I’m fine, just happy to be out of there in once piece.” She replied, a smile forming across her lips. She looked even prettier when she smiled. It was warm and genuine. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

Luke smiled in return, edging forward slightly. “Your master taught you well. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone fight like that.”

“He…he did.” Fulcrum confirmed, her eyes darted away for a moment. “He was a good teacher.”

The sound of footfalls pulled their focus from each other as Han appeared in the doorway of the main hold. He extended his arms, rolling his shoulders as he approached the two. “Don’t let me interrupt you two.” He said, throwing himself down into the seat opposite. “So, Jedi, huh? We were under the impression you guys were all gone.”

“The Order is, yes.” She began, leaning back against the seat, a little more relaxed. “It’s teachings still remain, just no one left to teach them. There were many of us back then. I doubt there’d be more than a handful now, if any at all.”

“Back then, the Clone Wars?” Luke’s eyes widened, turning to face her full on. “Did you fight?”

“You make me sound old but I did fight, yes.” Fulcrum answered, smiling almost bashfully. Luke sat up, shaking his head.

“Oh, no. I didn’t mean…”

Han slapped his knee, letting out a chuckle before crossing his arms. “He’s not as smooth as he looks but he’s one of the best guys I know. So, you got a name, sister?”

“Not sister.” She admonished, this time with a friendlier tone. “Ahsoka. My name is Ahsoka Tano.”

“Han Solo.” He said with a nod. “The big furry lug currently in the cockpit is Chewbacca, my not so hairy friend here…” Han signalled to Luke with an impish smile, encouraging him to introduce himself. He offered a hand which the Togruta took, shaking it.

“Luke Skywalker.”

Her smile faded, her face a mixture of confusion and almost a little sadness as he felt her hand tighten around his. It was as if she were searching for something as she looked around the room with a lost look in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“He…my master. His name was Skywalker. I…I lost him. A long time ago.”

Luke reached to place his other hand on top of hers, squeezing it softly. She tilted her head back to look into his eyes. “Lost things don’t always stay that way,” he fought to suppress his smile, “your master…my father, is with us now. He’s alive.”

Eyes widening, she reached forward slowly, brushing Luke’s hair from his face as she regarded him carefully. Luke held fast, fighting the urge to move back when he felt the heat of her fingers. “I should have seen it when I first laid eyes on you. You’re very much like him, in a way.”

“I’m sorry,” Han raised his hand, brow furrowed as he looked between the two Jedi, “I feel like there’s something I’m missing here.”

“We…well, it appears your companion and I are connected, Mr Solo. It’s as much a shock to me as it is you.” Ahsoka said as though the words sat strangely in her mouth. “Luke. If you’d permit me, I’d like to ask you about Anakin. What happened? Is he alright?”

Luke was blown away. He had just met another Jedi, a student of his father no less. He had so much to ask her and she with so many questions of her own. The trip home might not have been a long one but the two endeavoured to discuss the ties that bound them together.


	10. Chapter 10

The four rebels descended the landing ramp, stepping into the hangar to come face to face with the officer who had given them their, what they previously thought to be, straight forward mission. They stood at attention, Han reaching to keep Chewie still as the Wookiee impatiently tried to wrestle himself out of his restrictive coverings.

“Gentlemen, welcome back.” Nodded the officer before turning to look at Ahsoka, “Miss Tano, it’s good to have you back with us.”

“Captain Yen.” Ahsoka nodded in return. “You have no idea.”

Captain Yen’s eyes scanned the group, quick to avert her gaze, fighting to hide her smile at the sight of the furry co-pilot tug himself free of his pants. She cleared her throat, eyes back on Ahsoka. “This assignment didn’t prove too difficult, I hope.”

“Oh, was sticky but we’re all in one piece.” Han said, snatching the balled up fabric from Chewie’s hands, earning him a quick bump on the shoulder from the Wookiee.

“Speaking of,” Ashoka began in a cool, professional tone. “One of my informants has been compromised. I can explain in more detail later. I have something to show High Command.” She reached into her robe, taking out the disc. Captain Yen offered a hand, taking the disc from the agent before turning to the men. “We can take it from here, gentlemen. I’ll be sure to let High Command know of the turn you’ve just done us.”

Captain Yen turned to leave, Ashoka behind her as Luke called out. “Ahsoka, can I have a minute?” She turned, the captain nodding politely as she moved back to the young Jedi.

“What is it, Luke?”

“I won’t take you away from your duties. He’s here, in the med bay. I’m going to see him later, I just thought…”

“Oh, Luke. No.” She shook her head, stepping in closer to touch the young man’s arm. “I know what you’re trying to do and thank you. I’m just not ready to see him. Not right now.”

Luke’s face fell. Of course she wouldn’t want to see him yet. These things don’t change overnight. He felt her hand squeeze his arm as their eyes met. “Soon, perhaps.” She said, smiling before turning to leave with the officer. 

As Luke watched the two depart, Han waved his hand in the air. “Can I get a fill up over here, please?” A man, dressed in a mechanic’s jumpsuit approached, followed by a familiar astro droid. While Han gave a specific list of instructions on how ‘the lady should be treated,’ Luke turned his attention to the mechanic’s companion.

“Artoo!” Luke smiled, the little droid bouncing happily at the site of his master, wheeling into him affectionately with a series of whistles. “Keeping out of trouble?” Luke asked, patting his dome. Artoo blew a raspberry.

“Where’s Threepio?” He asked. The droid spun his head, letting out a longer string of beeps and whistles followed by laughter. “Artoo,” Luke admonished, unable to hide his amusement, “behave.”

Artoo rocked lightly, continuing to whistle in clarification as Luke knelt down to give the little droid a hug before moving aside, allowing him to follow after the mechanic as he started to board the ship. Han reached down, brushing his fingers over his domed head as he past. “Hey, my man!”

Leaving them to their work, the three broke apart, Han ruffling Luke’s hair while Chewie stretched, letting out a yawn. Now that the adrenalin had worn off, Luke could feel himself start to slow down as well. He would check up on his father after a quick rest, a shower and maybe something to eat.

***

There was a man outside his father’s room. He stood casually, relaxed but readied with his rifle resting on his shoulder, the butt cradled in his palm. He stood at attention when Luke approached. “Commander Skywalker,” he acknowledged.

“Is everything alright?” Luke asked, looking between the guard and his father through the window.

“He appears to be fine, sir.” The guard replied, nodding.

Opening his mouth to rephrase, he just shook his head, “uh, can I go in?”

“Of course sir. You’ve been cleared.”

Thanking the guard, he entered to see his father propped up in bed by numerous pillows, an overbed table pulled across with a small bowl of grey mush which Anakin seemed more focused on finishing than actually tasting.

“Hey,” Luke said, pulling over a seat. “What’s that about?”

His father continued to stir and scoop the contents of the bowl around before taking another small spoonful, not looking at Luke. “I’m popular.”

“When did this start?”

“Two days ago,” Anakin answered, clearing his throat as he managed to fight down the paste. “Gawkers. Told them to take them away. They won’t”

“What did Dr. Tambra have to say about it?” Luke asked, edging forward. His father pushed the bowl aside, setting down the little spoon.

“She signed off on it. Had to. Told her I didn’t want them here. She said it was for the best. I trust her. Not them.”

“But father-”

“I want them gone.” He thumped his fist on the table, his voice a sharp hiss. He sounded better but still wasn’t strong enough to shout. He averted his gaze, unfolding his fingers. He looked like a scolded child, embarrassed by his own outburst. “Guarding some old cripple.”

“You’re imagining things.” Luke soothed, reaching out to take his father’s hand. “It’s just some kind of precaution. And stop overexerting yourself, you’re not well.”

“When was I ever,” he muttered to himself before bringing his glass closer. Luke took the jug before his father could reach for it, filling the glass for him. “Thank you, my boy.”

“They’re treating you well, aren’t they?”

“Much better than deserved. Better than I’m used to.” He assured, taking a long drink of water, smacking his lips and clearing his throat. “Dr. Tambra’s good at what she does.”

Luke could hear the door slide open behind him. He turned to face the newcomer, expecting it to be Dr. Tambra. This woman was taller than the good doctor. She was dressed in fatigues similar to that of Special Forces, her pants tucked into boots that were so well shined they reflected the room’s light back at them. Luke slowly stood, his blue eyes meeting the piercing, sharp greens of the soldier.

“Can I help you with something?” Luke asked, stepping forward to meet the woman. He held her gaze, her focus remaining unbroken. Her face was squared somewhat, sharp cheek bones and a well angled jaw. Smooth, dark hair sat swept to the right side of her head. Luke noticed a scar at the corner of her brow and along the bottom of her lip. An otherwise classical nose was knotted, clear evidence it had been reset. The sharp eyed woman extended her hand slowly.

“Commander,” she began, her voice had a hint of husk to it. “Captain Dela Reece.” There was a natural firmness to her voice. Formal, not forceful. Luke accepted the captain’s hand, returning a firm shake.

“A pleasure, Captain. What can I do for you?” He relaxed his grip, the woman releasing hers.

“It’s in regards to our guest.” Captain Reece replied, moving past Luke to stand at the foot of the bed. “How would you like me to address you?” She asked the older man.

“You can call me puzzled,” Anakin began, pushing himself to sit completely upright, “as to why you’re here, Captain.”

Luke stepped forward, opening his mouth. This woman seemed polite enough, there was no need to be confrontational. The captain replied before he could even interject. “You asked for me, Mr. Skywalker.”

“I would remember had I done so.”

“Then I’m afraid it must have slipped your mind.” She replied with an affectation of sweetness. “I was told by my stationed guards as well as the dear doctor that you were very eager to ‘see the man that would see fit to have you shadowed, in your current condition, no less, like some common criminal.’ Well, sir, your words were heeded. I would be ‘the man.’ Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Then being that you’ve seen fit to haunt my door with your rabble, I’d like you to have them return to their regular duties.”

“Their _regular_ duties, until further notice, are to guard a most important person.” She stated, pointing a finger at Anakin. “You sir, are no common criminal. You are far from common.”

“On your high horse while you do this,” he scoffed, slowly pushing the table away. “Parading your thugs beside a cripple’s deathbed. I’m barely even a full damned person.”

She moved quickly to his bedside, his head turning sharply to follow her. Luke moved to the opposite, taking his father by the shoulder, squeezing him firmly.

“Father, don’t...”

“Don’t _father_ me.” He warned before returning his full attention to the woman. “You would think twice, not so long ago. Now you and your band of scuttling little rats come to rear their heads now that I am as I am. Now that your battle’s been won. I won’t have that. I. Will not. Have it.” Anakin spoke with defiance, keeping his voice calm and steady. She reached back to take the chair that Luke had been sitting on, pulling it in and setting herself down. She interlaced her fingers, leaning forward.

“You will listen and you will let me finish.” She began, Luke slowly lowering his father back against his pillows. “You’re frustrated, I can understand that. My men, they’re here for your safety. You’re not well liked here, far from it. My men will stay. I may never be your best friend but I can be your worst enemy, that’s all up to you. What I won’t be is pushed around. Not by you or anyone else. You’ll give me no trouble. You won’t give my men any either.” She spoke calmly, her gaze unbroken. Luke watched, his father’s eyes never leaving hers. He began to clear his throat, reaching up to touch his neck as he leaned forward, gently massaging. Without missing a beat, Captain Reece turned to the table, pouring a glass of water and offering it to Anakin. “Here, drink this.”

Anakin reached out, taking the glass and drinking in long, slow gulps. His eyes returned to the woman, who’s face had softened ever so slightly. He cleared his throat. “Thank you, Captain.”

“I’d ask you not to put words in my mouth.” She said, taking the glass from him and setting it aside. “You may be a prisoner but you’re no less worthy of the dignity any man should be afforded.”

The older man’s face softened a little. “My apologies, Captain.” He said, Luke wondering for a moment if he had in fact heard the words leave the man’s lips. “I may have been a little hasty. You’ll get no trouble from me.”

“Then we’ve reached an understanding, which is all I wanted.” Captain Reece replied, a smile curling across her lips. It was not a placating look, she seemed genuinely pleased with the outcome. “Now, I’ll consider this a misstep that I’m sure we’d both be glad to overlook.” She pushed the chair back, standing up and crossing the room.

“Captain.”

She turned her head as the door slid open. “Mr. Skywalker?”

“Anakin, please.” He corrected. “It’ll be so much less confusing. If I may, I’d like to ask you to pass on a message to Mon Mothma.”

“And what should I tell her?”

“That I’d like to meet. I have a proposal for her, I feel it would be beneficial to her but I need her to hear it in person.”

She seemed to consider it for a moment before replying. “I’ll pass on your message as soon as I can.”

“I’d be most grateful.”

“Now rest, Anakin. No more of those outbursts, you’re in no condition.” She nodded to both men, offering a smile before exiting, the guard outside the door saluting her as she left. Luke turned to look at his father.

“Was all that really necessary?”

“Now that’s how you carry yourself. “ He turned to look at his son. “Why aren’t more of your lot like that?”


	11. Chapter 11

_“We can see your dilemma, Princess.”_ Said the Kaminoan projected on Leia’s desk, the blue flickering figure standing with his arms behind his back. _“This is something we would be able to help with. If even just as a means of preserving honour.”_

“We would be most grateful, Prime Minister.” Leia nodded, her fingers interlaced. “All being well, this could be beneficial to yourselves as well as the rest of the galaxy.”

 _“The Clone Wars were an embarrassing affair for my people, Princess. I aim to correct the damage it has caused us.”_ The prime minister slowly paced, his projection lightly marching to and fro across Leia’s desk. _“Our facilities aren’t what they once were but we should be able to accommodate your request. The art is not lost to us, I can assure you of that.”_

“Thank you,” Leia said. “We’ll be in touch.”

The small projection gave a polite bow before the feed was cut, ending the call. The situation with Kamino during the Clone Wars was muddy to say the least from the information she could gleam. Greed had blinded the elite, leading the way for the Empire and their people paid greatly for it. The current prime minister seemed eager to correct these mistakes, even being willing to accept her request as a good will gesture.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, looking over the file that Dr. Tambra had compiled for High Command. It was shocking to see it all compiled this way. She would never have imagined it. She had always found him so imposing. After having seen him lying in his bed, weak and breathless, she had difficulty even trying to picture the man who stood on her ship. He sent chills through her then, with his intimidating stature and demanding tone. It was as if they were two men who shared a name, not a single entity. Her focus was pulled by the sound of something being set on the table. 

“Do try to take a moment to clear your head, Princess.” Came the polite voice of the protocol droid standing over her desk after having set down a cup of hot caf. 

“Thank you, Threepio.” Leia said gratefully, bushing her hair back from her face before taking a slow, careful sip. She leaned back into her chair. “I needed that.”

“It’s my pleasure. You mustn’t overwork yourself.”

She pondered a moment. “While you’re here, do you mind if I asked you something?”

“Why, not at all.”

She lightly traced the hot porcelain under her fingers, considering how to phrase her inquiry. She glanced up, the droid’s almost expectant eyes looking down at her.

“People change. That’s something we have to embrace as part of life.”

“Of course. No one thing stays the same,” Threepio began, starting to lightly shuffle, pacing as he spoke. “In the time I’ve known you all, you’re now very different people from when we began. All fundamentally the same people, but changed.”

“For the better, I hope.” Leia said playfully, taking another drink.

“I wouldn’t dream of insinuating otherwise, Princess!” Threepio replied, waving his arms to emphasize the point.

“We have all changed. It feels like it’s been so long since the that title was actually a fitting one.” She lightly traced the rim of the cup with her index finger. “Though, not all change is good.”

“Unfortunately not.” Threepio agreed. “Things can become stronger or weaker because of it. With machines, like myself and Artoo, we can be changed on a whim should it be seen as a benefit. Organic life and how it develops is greatly dictated by its surroundings.”

“Do you think a bad person can change?” Leia felt almost childish when the question left her lips. “Even the worst kind of person?”

Threepio regarded her for a moment, his head cocked as though he were trying to find the right words to articulate his racing, studious thoughts. He straightened slightly before he spoke again.

“It’s entirely possible. After all, what person is born good or bad?” Threepio posed. “We find ourselves where we are based on where we’ve been. A good man may become bad but it wouldn’t be out of the question that he could become good again.”

“Then how might you make a bad man into a good one?”

“Well, I would show him the benefit of being a good man. To change would be their choice but they must be allowed to. If a man is refused the ability to change, then he never will.”

Leia straightened up, letting the room go quiet. She considered everything that had happened this last week or so, considered Luke’s words and his defence of the man. There was perhaps, if only in some small way, a change in him. It was one thing to forget a man’s crimes completely, it was another to actively hinder a genuine attempt to repent. She could not forgive him, not yet. She knew she could not just forget everything that had happened but if this man truly wanted to put his dark past behind him, then her standing in the way of that only kept Vader alive. She looked up as she heard the door to her office slide open.

“Never thought I’d see you behind a desk.” Han said, standing in the doorway, hands on his hips with a sly smile.

“And I never thought I’d see you thinking about anything beyond yourself.” She shot back playfully, assuming her old regal tone. Han slumped against the door frame, clutching his chest. She laughed, moving to him and taking him by the arm to halt his pantomimed death.

“That one stung, got me bad with that.” He said, his smile growing as he straightened himself. “You need to slow down for a while. Want something to eat?”

“Oh, I’m famished.” She sighed before turning to the droid, smiling warmly. “Thank you, Threepio.”

“Oh no! Think nothing of it, it was my pleasure.” Threepio nodded dutifully before scooting behind her desk. “I’ll just reorganize everything here before I go. I’ll label everything clearly so you can find it with ease.”

Han wrapped his arm around Leia’s waist, leading her out of the office and down the hall. “He never stops, does he?”

“He can be a little overbearing.” Leia agreed with a chuckle. “He’s been a great help though.”

Her talk with Threepio gave her a new perspective on the situation. She would, like Luke, try to facilitate that change, not stand in the way of it.

***

Anakin let his mind drift as Dr. Tambra worked, enjoying the silence save for the gentle hiss of his oxygen. It was a strange feeling, lying on his back on a padded bed with his arm placed behind his head. He couldn’t recall the last time he had ever felt this calm. Curiously, he glanced down.

“Still okay, Anakin?” Dr. Tambra asked, her voice slightly muffled by her surgical mask as she carefully watched a small screen, delicately manoeuvring a needle through an incision site between his ribs.

Anakin gave a little nod before turning to watch the screen himself, seeing two black masses and a thin white line piercing through one of them. It was surreal to see his lungs like that. Gaze drifting over to the hoverchair sitting in the corner, he had to admit, it felt good to be out of his room, if only for this trip. To finally get out of bed and move around made him feel a little more independent. Even if Dr. Tambra had to help lift him into place.

“Almost done,” Dr. Tambra noted as she inserted the needle into another area.

“Why are we doing this again?” Anakin asked, absent mindedly.

“We,” the doctor replied, “are attempting to obtain a sample of healthy tissue in the hopes of repairing your lungs.”

“You could always take a trip down to the hangers,” Anakin mused. “Perhaps the mechanics can lend you some tools. I’d make sure you had a blow torch and a hammer handy.

“Quiet you.” She chided, her grin showing through the creases of her mask. He had become quite fond of her over this past while. He never imagined that he would ever relish a doctor’s presence like he did hers. “That should do for now,” she concluded, slowly retracting the needle. She put the samples into protective coverings.

“Am I cured yet?” He asked. “I’m sure there would be some kind of medal in it for you, all the work required.

“You had better be standing at the ceremony then.” She chuckled as she helped him sit up, placing some gauze over the wound before helping him redress. He attempted to move to the edge of the bed only to be stopped by the doctor. “Easy there,” she said, placing a hand on his chest, “you’re not there just yet.” She gestured to the guard stationed by the door. He moved quickly, taking Anakin under his arms, carefully moving him into the waiting chair.

“All good, big man?” The guard, Sgt. Talas asked, taking him by the shoulders and straightening him. “Fantastic. I could run a marathon.” He responded, causing Talas to attempt to stifle a bark of nervous laughter. He leaned forward, allowing the doctor to carefully rearrange the pillows behind his back and secure his oxygen to the chair.

“Let’s get you back,” Dr. Tambra said as she guided the chair out, followed by the guard.

“So soon?” Anakin asked, hoping to mask the disappointment in his voice. It didn’t go unnoticed by the doctor. “I promise we’ll get you out for longer soon, okay? We can’t rush these things.”

Anakin sighed but didn’t reply, just watched his surroundings as they neared his room. He heard Dr. Tambra muttering to Talas, suddenly curious as they moved past his room, continuing on down the hallway. Looking back at his room then up at the doctor, he gave her a quizzing look. She didn’t say anything, only smiled.

They travelled further down the hallway until they came to a door. “Not too long, now.” She said lightly, Anakin still not knowing what was going on. When the door opened he had to cover his eyes as the sudden burst of brightness momentarily blinded him. As he felt the chair move he could hear an array of different sounds. Wind. Water. Birds. People.

Slowly, he took his hand away from his eyes, squinting against the sunlight. Gradually his sight began to adjust as he started to make out the shapes of others. A few were standing around in small groups whereas others were sitting in little stone seats. Some were in chairs like him. Guiding him over to a more secluded part of the garden, they let him take everything in. The area was enclosed, a part of the medical facility. A lush little paradise framed by concrete with freshly cut grass and a tall tree standing next to a stone fountain, its spout acting as the source of a clear pond. These surroundings brought out a lost sense of wonder and fascination in him. He watched the light dance across the surface of the shallow pool, his fingers lightly brushing against the petals of deep blue, blooming roses on the nearby bushes. A bird swooped through the air, chirping as it settled in the tree. Anakin craned his neck to follow it, listening. Closing his eyes, he focused on the small bird’s chirps before allowing himself to be taken by the sounds around him, enjoying the cool air on his face.

He jumped slightly, blinking as he was pulled from his daze when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “I think that’s enough for now,” she said softly, “you still haven’t eaten today.” Talas slowly turned the chair as the doctor led them back inside.

Anakin let his eyes lull shut again. He felt an unfamiliar but not unwelcome sense of serenity as they brought him back through the facility towards his room. The sweet smell of grass still in his nostrils. Slowly, his eyes opened as the sound of boots squeaking against the floor pulled him back to reality.

“It looks like we have a runaway.” Captain Reece said with mock sternness. “I hope you weren’t expecting to get far.”

“It seems I would need to get up a lot earlier to get one past you, Captain.” He replied with feigned guilt, watching as the captain’s eyes moved from him to Talas.

“Gorrester came to relieve you. Both you and the patient were gone.”

“My apologies, Captain.” Talas replied. Anakin could feel his hand shift from the chair, to salute, no doubt. “The doctor felt it would be good for the patient get some fresh air.”

“We didn’t intend to cause any alarm, Captain.” Dr. Tambra said, stepping forward.

“Just try to keep me informed. Two men disappearing was quite a surprise.” She gestured with her head, Talas stepping out from behind the chair, Gorrester moving to replace him. She looked to Anakin, placing a hand on her hip. “And _you_ try not to convince any more of my men to run off on more impromptu adventures, at least not without giving me the memo first.”

“Of course not. We’ll be sure to invite you next time, Captain.”

She cocked an eyebrow before shaking her head, unable to suppress a little chuckle. “I won’t keep you any longer. I hope you had a nice time, Anakin.”

As the captain departed with Talas at her heels, Gorrester and Dr. Tambra returned him to his room. Captain Reece seemed more casual than during their first meeting. She was very much willing to meet Anakin half way, provided he do the same. He thought he’d have made many more enemies when he’d first got here. He was actually relieved to find that not to be the case.


	12. Chapter 12

The planet was a strange sight to Luke. In his youth it had been hard to even imagine any large expanse of water, a part of that naivety coming back to him as the surface of Kamino stretched out below them as they completed their decent towards Tipoca City.

When Leia had approached him with the opportunity to meet with the Kaminoans, this illusive scientific race, Luke jumped at the chance. Not only to help his father, but to engage with this new life, a culture that sounded so alien to him. When he asked Ahsoka if she wanted to accompany him, he was pleased when she accepted. 

The domed city was something to behold. Shining white, domed structures stood in an almost honeycomb like formation atop pillars framed on all sides by a vast, crashing ocean. When they landed, they were politely escorted out of the rain and into the city proper. Everything looked so pristine and polished, reminding Luke of a hospital. An odd contrast to the warm welcome they were given. They were each given quarters to rest and change in, allowing them to get out of their wet clothes while they awaited their audience with the prime minister.

Luke’s eyes fell on the black box he had come in with, sitting on the floor of his room. Dr.Tambra had spared no expense. The sample was stored in a vacuum sealed dish before being placed in the reinforced case, providing a protective, sterile environment to house it in. He was told that even if he’d dropped it, the case would be strong enough to protect the sample inside. Not that he wanted to test that claim.

It was an odd thing to consider. Living beings were so complex, made up of various coexisting systems but for all their sophistication, they were still so incredibly fragile. Luke found it both bemusing and somewhat off putting that something seemingly so small required this much protection. It was enough to make him question his own fragile mortality. The door to his room slid open, Ahsoka standing there with a Kaminoan aid.

“Master Skywalker, the Prime Minister is ready for you.” Said the aid, gesturing with her hand. “If you’ll allow me.”

He looked back to the transport box, somewhat reluctant to hand it over. When he looked back, he could see Ahsoka nodding to him from behind the aid. He crossed the room, taking the case by it’s handle and offering it to the aid, who took it in both hands with a slight bow. “This way, please.”

Luke mulled over the research he had managed to do on Kamino as he walked in stride with Ahsoka. A scientific powerhouse during the years of the Clone Wars, supplying the Galactic Republic with its soldiers based on the DNA of one of the galaxy’s most infamous bounty hunters; the father of Boba Fett, no less. It shook him a little to know that the paid thug who had tried to kill him and his friends had a shared linage with the entirety of the Clone Army.

“It’s a beautiful city you have here,” Luke finally spoke up. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“The Prime Minister will be pleased to hear you think so.” The aid said politely. “We do not get many visitors here. Not since the old days.”

“Your father fought here.” Ashoka added. “At the Battle of Kamino with Master Kenobi.”

“I’m glad to be able to visit on somewhat better circumstances.”

Ahsoka had changed into a clean set of robes, contrasting with the battle ready attire Luke had seen her in previously. She walked with a defined confidence, elegance even. He felt better having her here with him. While he had spoken to people in high positions before, even dangerous individuals, he wasn’t just representing himself here. He had to make a good impression. For the sake of the Alliance and for his father.

The aid led the two into a room with a wall length window overlooking the ocean. In the centre sat a sleek glass table with medium backed eggshell chairs. Behind the table stood a Kaminoan with a black, high collared suit and tapered cape. He watched the visitors, standing still and unblinking. The aid bowed politely before turning to face them. “May I present Temjin Su, Prime Minister of Kamino.” She then turned to the politician, announcing the guests. “These are Master Jedi Skywalker and Tano.”

“Welcome to Kamino.” The prime minister greeted. His voice was as smooth and even as the others. Luke noted a little deepness to it. “Please, join me.”

Luke and Ashoka approached, sliding their chairs out and waiting until the prime minister moved to sit, the two mirroring him. He gestured with his hand to the table in front of them. On a long tray sat a series of blue and pink fish fillets, strips of seaweed and curled, suction covered tendrils as well as large, hard shelled shrimp. In front of each place sat a plate with a small matching bowl filled with a dark brown sauce accompanied with tall, delicate flutes. The prime minister gave the two time to fill their glasses and start serving themselves.

“We thank you on behave of the Alliance for arranging this meeting with us, Prime Minister Su.” Ahsoka said, taking a sip of her drink.

“Think nothing of it, Master Tano. It was your Princess Organa who made the primary point of contact.” He replied, daintily taking up his utensils. “To consider us was quite an honour.” He glanced over to the aid, nodding slowly, allowing her to leave with the box. Luke still felt a little nervous but he knew the sample was in safe hands. For now, he would focus on the meeting.

“I’ve never seen anything quite like this.” Luke chimed in, careful with the long, precise cutlery. “I came from a desert planet, you see. It’s a little overwhelming to see so much water in one place.”

“We weren’t always a water planet,” Prime Minister Su began, “some time in our history we were a land faring people. The rise in our sea levels forced us to adapt.”

“Your power source, hydrogen based?” Luke asked, wrapping one of the shrimp in seaweed and dipping it into the sauce. It was tart, but not bad.

“That’s correct.” Su nodded. “We make use of a fusion generator. All of the power we get is from the ocean below. You have a touch of the engineer about you, Master Skywalker.”

Luke smiled, shaking his head. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. My uncle was a moisture farmer. I can’t say it was on the same scale as this but I think the principle is the same.”

“In a way. That’s quite interesting.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Ahsoka cut in, “I thought that the facilities where shut down after the Clone Wars.”

“They were. After the change in regime we were forced to shut our doors. Mass scale production was to cease. We do still have the capability for cloning, however, no longer on the same scale as during my father’s time in office.”

“They had no idea of the Emperor’s plans?”

At that Temjin Su’s lip tightened. It was slight but still noticeable. Luke took a drink, trying to hide his nervous swallow. Ahsoka glanced over at him, then to the prime minister.

“I cannot speak for my father, Master Skywalker. What I can say is that my father saw the opportunity to have the Kaminoan people known throughout the galaxy. Some of the decisions made by the Ruling Council were most regrettable.”

“The hidden protocol.” Ahsoka said darkly.

“Correct, Master Tano.” Su confirmed. “Clone Protocol 66.”

Luke’s eyes darted between the two, slowly placing his fork down as he felt a sense of tension build. This didn’t go unnoticed by their host. Su turned his head to look at the young Jedi.

“A fail safe in the event that the Jedi would betray the Senate. Of course, we had no way of knowing what the Emperor had intended.” He said grimly, fingers coiling around his flute. He didn’t raise the glass to his lips. “The Ruling Council paved the way for the Empire, be it willingly or through their own greed or ambition.”

“What Princess Organa asked about,” Luke licked his lips nervously. “Can you do it?”

“It should be possible.” The prime minister nodded. “The princess described your patient to us. You have been informed as to what has been discussed?”

“Payment to reopen your facilities. In exchange you’ll provide your technology for the purpose of organ transplants and Kamino will receive a seat on the new council.”

“We are also willing to agree to a prohibition on full body cloning. You will not see a repeat of the past, not while I am in office.”

He glanced over to Ahsoka. She nodded, her lips curling into a soft smile. He couldn’t help but smile back before returning his attention back to the prime minister.

“Then we’ll report this development to Princess Organa on our return. Thank you, Prime Minister.”

“I feel that this may be the beginning of a very mutually beneficial relationship.” He replied, taking up his glass. “For now, please, eat.”

***

Luke was awoken by Ahsoka the next morning, Prime Minister Su offering them the opportunity to stay the night as their scientists examined the sample. After Ahsoka had arrived, the aid from the previous evening appeared, escorting them to the cloning lab. He had to admit that he was intrigued to see the process.

The room was just as bright as the others in the city, the walls lined with sleek computer consoles and large bell jar shaped tubes, each offering a friendly environment for the cloned tissue to grow. The bright blues of the console screens and the growing jars made the lab quite aesthetically pleasing in an odd, sterile way. 

The aid introduced them to Doctor Mai Zhu, the scientist in charge of their sample. She greeted them both warmly, offering each a seat by the console she was stationed at.

“The sample you brought us will prove to be quite the challenge.” Began the doctor, nimble fingers typing before a holographic diagram appeared in front of them. “This is a digital representation of your cell sample.”

The diagram was incredibly abstract, a swirl of colour that Luke couldn’t really discern. A series of veiny, computer generated lines mapping everything together. “If I may, Doctor, what is it I’m looking at here?” 

“This is a working map of the sample you’ve given us, Master Skywalker. With this, we can get an in depth look at what we are dealing with, as well as any problems we might face in the construction.”

“Do you often have to do a lot of rebuilding?” Luke asked, leaning in to get a closer look at the map in front of him.

“Oh, yes. One might say it’s as much of an art as it is a science, if you were so inclined.”

“What does this mean?” Ahsoka asked, her finger hovering over the diagram marked in a deep, throbbing red.

“Cell corruption.” Dr. Zhu replied. “We use a colour coded system to show damage or deterioration, what can be salvaged, what cannot.”

The two Jedi turned to look at each other. When Luke saw her eyes soften almost apologetically, he could feel the back of his neck start to sweat. The pulsing hologram’s only consistent colour was red, the rest showing some small, isolated sections of green and a washed out blue.

“This…this isn’t good, is it?”

“It is still possible to salvage even a sample with this much damage.” Dr. Zhu pressed another button. The computer answered the prompt by sending out a series of white lines, sweeping across the cell map to pinpoint the lighter shades of blue on the diagram. “These cells show the least deterioration. They’re still damaged but not to the point of being unrecognisable. With these, we can approximate your patient’s cell structure, allowing us to create the organ from scratch.” 

“So the sample can still be used to clone new material?”

“Yes, Master Skywalker. With cloning, as the material is modelled directly on the patient’s genetic make up, the body recognizes the organ as one of its own, therefore there’s no risk of rejection. We are, however, working with extremely damaged tissue in this instance. We’ll need to take our time but we should be able to salvage it.

“So we’re not completely out of the woods yet.” Ahsoka asserted, her lips pouting at the thought.

“A sample needn’t be pristine, which is to be expected when combating deterioration. As long as the organ is recognised as part of the body then it should be accepted with no problem. A question if I may, how old is your patient?”

Luke’s eyes widened at the inquiry. How could it be possible he didn’t even know his father’s age. It was so hard to tell just by looking at him due to all of the damage. “Would that be a big factor into the process?”

“Not too much. However the lungs of, for example, a human infant would require growth that those of a human adult would not. As long as we don’t need to account for growth, there should be no issue.”

Ahsoka’s brow furrowed, as if she were considering something. She was quiet for a moment before she spoke. “He would be in his mid to late forties.”

Luke practically spun in his chair to meet Ahsoka’s gaze, causing her to jump slightly. “I was fourteen when we first met, there’s a four or five year difference between us. He was very young for a general.” She confirmed.

“Thank you, Master Tano.”

“You said there’s a risk of rejection the more you need to recreate from scratch,” Luke began, managing to shake himself from the revelation. “How much would you need to recreate?”

“Even the healthiest tissue is still quite damaged. We’ll be using those cells for reference but they may not be reliable. This will almost be an entirely new organ. ”

Luke sank in his chair before feeling a hand squeeze his shoulder. He gazed at the screen, feeling a sense of loss as he looked at the diagram. His father had survived whatever else had been done to him. Would he be able to pull through this too? Would his body be able to accept this organ or would his immune system consider it an invader?

“Try not to be discouraged, Master Skywalker.” Dr. Zhu encouraged in her calm, smooth tone. “This is something the Kaminoan people have been doing for a long time. Consider it a setback. Nothing will leave this laboratory until we are certain that it is healthy enough for a transplant.”

“I’m sorry.” Luke apologised, shaking his head. “I just wish I could do more for him.”

“Luke.” Ahsoka said gently, lowering herself. “You can’t let that stop you.“ Lightly, she cupped the young man’s chin with her finger, forcing him to look at her. “This is out of our hands now. You’ve went above and beyond for him when no one else would have. All we can do is our best. He’s strong. Trust that he can fight this too.”

Her eyes were soft, reassuring. It wasn’t until now that Luke had began to feel utterly hopeless. Those eyes and her words were still able to pull him back from those depths. He reached for her hand, taking it from his face and giving it a gentle squeeze. He nodded, a soft smile curling over her face.

“You’re right.” He said, looking into her eyes. “I can’t just give up. Not after all this.”

“Your disappointment is understandable, Master Skywalker.” Dr. Zhu cut in. “Of course you would want what was best for your patient. While we are not a boastful people, we are confident in our abilities. We will give your patient the strongest chance we can.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

Her confidence was reassuring, even in the face of what could be seen as steadily dwindling odds. He’d dragged him from the skeleton of the Death Star, ready to fight High Command tooth and nail on his behalf. He didn’t do all that just to give up on him now.

He wouldn’t give up on him now.


	13. Chapter 13

Anakin took his time, squinting as he slowly took a new card from the deck and moved it into position on his tray. As attentive as the staff were, looking at the same surroundings day in and day out were slowly starting to numb him. He was thankful that at least one member of his guard detail had a deck of sabacc cards. 

He heard the door slide open, a slight commotion from Maru at his post. The new arrivals stood there for a moment as he continued with his game. He looked up from under his brow. The two men where dressed for business, all sharp lines and fabric tucked into waistbands and boots. The older of the two men held a datapad under his arm. Anakin swore he could place his face somewhere. He returned his focus to his game, waiting for one of them to speak.

“Seems you’ve settled in nicely.” The older man observed, taking the pad from under his arm. “There’s something I’d like you to look at, if you’d be so kind.”

“You’re not here with my lunch.” Anakin said, peering over the card in his hand, watching the other two in the background. The younger man was holding his hand up, palm out to placate Maru who was still attempting to make them leave. When they didn’t budge, he settled for stepping back into the hall and reaching for the comm clipped to his belt. It was clear these two where not authorised to be here.

The officer raised his eyebrow, his jaw tightening. “I beg your pardon?”

“My lunch,” Anakin clarified, his eyes moving to the speaker. “I’ve graduated from the gunk I was given previously. Something I’m thankful for, honestly. I’m expecting a nurse with it anytime now.”

“My name is General Madine. I’m here to show you something.”

Anakin held his gaze with the general. He slowly drew another card, setting it down in its appropriate pile. _Madine._ Now, that was a familiar name.

“With all due respect, General, my first intel meeting is with Mon Mothma.”

“She’s a very busy woman, my Lord,” Madine replied with a facetious edge. “I was under the impression that we were sharing resources now. The medical personnel who bring yourmeals, the medication you are currently enjoying and the facility space housing you.”

Anakin regarded Madine carefully. “So I owe you, personally. Is that it?”

“If I may,” the younger man stepped in, giving Anakin a smile. Without turning his head, the older man’s eyes lazily regarded him, narrowing. He assumed it was supposed to disarm him, perhaps it actually worked with others. “We just feel that we’ve given you all this help. Now, I’m not saying we shouldn’t, more, a little tit for tat. I’m sure you understand.”

“You have a name, son?”

“Commander Jorn Benik. What should I call you?”

“You shouldn’t.” Anakin replied, turning his attention back to Madine. “Believe it or not, I am immensely grateful for what has been done for me. What I was not aware of was that this unwanted service required payment.”

Madine moved in closer, leaning over him as he set the pad on the tray, disturbing the cards underneath. He pressed a button, bringing up a series of files. Anakin moved to sit up fully, Madine leaning back slightly before regaining his ground. “You’re not calling the shots here, Skywalker.”

“And you are?”

“I _am_.” Madine all but spat. “You’re here on our dime so you look at the damned files and _talk.”_

“Am I intruding, gentlemen?” Came a familiar voice. Madine and Benik turned to find Captain Reece standing in the room, Maru flanking her. Madine straightened, adjusting himself before moving to the woman.

“Captain. I was just interviewing the patient.”

“And has this meeting been authorised, General?”

“It has not.” Anakin cut in, Captain Reece peering over Madine’s shoulder to look at him. “Good of you to join us, Captain.” He greeted. “I have a prearranged meeting with Mon Mothma, this man appeared with no prior notice.”

The captain folded her arms, looking between the two intruders. “Well, it certainly wasn’t cleared with me.”

“With all due respect, Dela…” Benik interjected.

“Save it, Jorn. I’m not just a pretty face.” She groaned, turning to face the young commander. “People can’t just come and go. If you want to speak with him, you go through me.”

“I think you’re forgetting who you’re speaking to.” Madine stated, stepping closer. “You are aware that I’m a superior officer, are you not, Captain?”

“Not while I’m here, you’re not.” Captain Reece corrected, signalling to Maru.

“It’s time to go now, gentlemen.” The guard said coldly, stationing himself inside the room. He gestured with his head towards the door. “On your way.”

Madine turned to reach for his pad, his eyes meeting Anakin’s. “I know about your little proposal, Skywalker. Do you really think that Mothma would seriously consider talking to those Imperial scum?”

“That wasn’t a request, General.” The captain warned. “You have to leave. Now.”

He stepped back, moving towards the door before looking over his shoulder. “I can’t understand what they see in you.”

“Every man has the ability to change. You of all people should understand that…Commander.”

Madine suddenly straightened, his lip twisting as if he were struck by a blow. He turned slowly. “ _What_ did you just call me?” 

“You think I didn’t know?” Anakin asked, turning his hand as if to examine absent fingernails. “You were quite well decorated. Special Forces, with your own commando unit. I wonder how many Rebels you happily had gunned down before you decided to jump ship. Either gained a conscience or lost your nerve.” He tilted his head to look back at the general. “Do you still box, Commander?”

Dropping the pad, Madine lunged forward, roughly pulling the tray aside to clear his path to the man in the bed. Before he could achieve whatever it was he had in mind, Captain Reece was on him. Quickly and decisively, she seized the general by the wrist and the back of his collar, slamming him into the window before twisting his arm up his back. As Benik stepped forward to intervene, Maru stood in his way, holding a hand up to bar him.

“You. Were. Warned.” Captain Reece growled, twisting her body, forcing him towards the door. Maru coaxed Benik out as she pushed Madine, lifting her foot to plant her heel into his backside. She pressed the button to frost the glass.

“I’m sorry, Captain. I told them to leave but they wouldn’t listen.”

“It’s okay. You did the right thing.” She assured before turning her attention to Anakin. “Are you alright?”

“Aside from a solitaire game ruined, I’m fine. Thank you, Captain.”

“They shouldn’t have done that.” She said, an edge to her voice as she paced the room. “The rest of High Command will here of this. I won’t let that stand.”

“Captain, please.” Anakin urged, resettling himself. “Try to calm yourself. Everything is fine.”

She turned to face him again, a hard look in her eyes. It was clear that the encounter had got under her skin, that she was fighting to keep calm. He looked over to the corner of the room at his hoverchair, pausing for a moment. “How about some fresh air? It’ll do you good.”

***

He watched as the captain crossed her legs at the ankle, lightly scuffing the toe of her left boot with the heel of her right. It was quieter in the garden today. Anakin sat in his chair while Captain Reece had settled into one of the stone seats.

“You have quite the relationship with authority, don’t you, Captain Reece?” He asked teasingly. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “You’re one to talk,” she replied, her lips curling into a smile. “Went from the top of the food chain to the most difficult patient on the ward. Now, that’s quite a feat.”

“How dare you. I’m an absolute peach.”

She couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at that. Something about her manner was far more casual than he’d expected. In their first meeting, she was the picture of formality. Now as they sat together, Anakin got the distinct impression that it had been a charade. Only now was he meeting the real thing.

“You’re well trained.” He said. “You probably could have broke our dear friend in half if you so chose.”

“As much as I was in the right for acting, I don’t need Madine getting up my ass. Not that he’ll complain after the fool he made of himself.” She mused, lightly tracing the armrest of the seat with her thumb.

“I wasn’t aware you were such a lady, Captain.” 

She cocked an eyebrow, slowly smirking. “A little too vulgar for you? Forgive me, I forgot you were a man of stature.”

“My stature is very limited as of late, as you well know.” Anakin replied, gesturing to the empty spot where feet should have emerged from his blanket. Captain Reece let out a bark of laughter. “You’re awful.”

“So I keep being reminded.” He slowly turned himself to face her properly. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For back there?” She asked, her face turning serious as she shook her head. “Don’t. They had no business behaving how they did. You always get the type. Slap a title in front of someone’s name and they think they can do as they please.”

“The irony of your observation isn’t lost on me.” He nodded. It’s true that he was guilty of the same crime, none of his men ever reproaching him for his actions. He liked that she spoke her mind, regardless of the position the listener held. “All the same, you did your duty well. I am grateful.”

She nodded, pushing a hand through her hair. From his position, Anakin could make out a series of thick, raised lines etched along the side of her head. She hastily pulled her hand away when she caught his gaze. He quickly averted his eyes.

“A war wound?” He asked. Captain Reece turned to face him. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s alright.” She replied, thinking of how best to reply. “A few of us were compromised after a mission. It was some time ago.”

Anakin squared his jaw. The captain’s words gave him the impression she had received the wound upon detainment, not combat. To interact with him so casually about this showed a strength that he admired in the woman.

“I am sorry. Truly, I am.”

“You didn’t do this.” She affirmed. “I was prepared to die to see the galaxy free. I didn’t expect my enemy to treat me with courtesy. I hoped that they would.” She scoffed, shaking her head. “I know it’s foolish to say it out loud.

“There is protocol, though it’s obvious not all choose to follow it. Your adversaries aren’t kind men, Captain."

“It seems they weren’t so good to you, either.” She said, almost carefully as she leaned in. “It’s obvious you weren’t always like this.”

“No. I wasn’t always this handsome.” He said with a smile, earning one in return. “I cannot blame the Empire for all my ills. The damage, I’m guilty of that. The repairs, those just came about when someone didn’t have the common decency to allow me to die.”

The two sat in silence, the captain frozen, her brow furrowing. He wasn’t sure where to go from here. It was clear by the look on her face that his words had effected her. He paused for a moment before he finally spoke again. “I want to fix things, Captain. It’s long overdue.”

Captain Reece regarded him softly. “Some will doubt the sincerity of those words, Anakin.” She shifted in her seat, slowly extending a hand to him. “Why don’t we prove them wrong?”

He looked at the woman’s hand, then slowly up until his gaze met hers. He reached out, taking her hand. He gripped it tight, a gesture that she returned as they shook on those words. He didn’t deserve such a gesture, which only made him all the more thankful for it. The moment was disturbed by the arrival of a shadow that slowly engulfed them. They turned to look at the encroaching shape.

“Did Maru send you here?” Dela asked, letting go of Anakin’s hand and getting to her feet. The Wookiee nodded, letting out a garbled reply before gesturing to Anakin. “Shall we go in then?” Dela asked, moving next to his chair, ready to guide him inside.

“I’d like to stay a little while longer, if that’s alright.”

She turned back to look up at the Wookiee who nodded, giving the tray he held a little rattle. Satisfied, she gave him an affirming pat on the arm. “Then I’ll leave him in your hands, Chewbacca.”

Chewbacca let out a little huff, stepping out of Dela’s way as she approached the door leading back into the facility. Before departing, she turned, her gaze meeting Anakin’s. The look in her eyes was a determined one, everything they had discussed passing between them with just a look. She stood there, holding that gaze until the door slid shut. While Anakin’s eyes remained fixed on the door, the Wookiee moved to nestle himself into the seat beside him, much less gracefully than its previous occupant.

“You’re one of Luke’s friends, aren’t you?” Anakin asked, blinking at the large, furry creature. Chewbacca, as Dela called him, sat silent as the large canine face remained unmoving. Beady, blue eyes remained focused on him. “Did he send you to babysit me?”

Chewbacca shook his head before letting out a yap, holding the tray up. He leaned forward, placing it into Anakin’s lap. He looked down to see what he was in store for him today. On the tray sat a bowl of brown, what looked like grains of rice. If rice had six legs and eyes.

“These are crickets, aren’t they?” He asked no one in particular. The Wookiee reached out, taking one of the small coated bodies from the bowl. Holding it up for emphasis, he put it into his mouth, chewing with a crunch before swallowing. Nodding approvingly, Chewbacca pointed at the bowl before opening Anakin’s carton of blue milk. The rest of the tray looked more appealing, a small container of fruit and another bowl of semolina pudding. Anakin sifted through the crickets, bracing himself when he felt the coated bodies on his tongue. His face relaxed when he bit down, getting a smoky, almost nutty taste. He never thought he would admit it but these were certainly an upgrade from the protein paste.

“You’re right, these aren’t bad.” He agreed, eating some more before taking a sip of milk. He slowly ran the afternoon over in his mind, both the confrontation with Madine and the words he’d shared with who he could only describe as his new guardian angel. He felt some kinship with her, a strong soldier with a sense of honour and duty. He was unable to shake their conversation from this thoughts as he enjoyed his lunch in peaceful silence. Chewbacca didn’t seem to mind.


	14. Chapter 14

The proposal her father had given to Mon Mothma was a bold one. Leia would be lying if she were to say she was happy with the idea of an ‘Imperial liaison’ as he’d put it. Two specific names were mentioned, Anakin providing appropriate avenues for obtaining their Imperial records.

She stood outside the door of the makeshift interview room, datapad tucked under her arm. He had given a strategy for dealing with each man, sharing their personalities and observations with the Rebel commanders. “These are proud men,” he had said, “as to be expected with the officer class. No cause is infallible, they won’t stick to their guns if there’s nothing to gain from it.”

The guard saluted to Leia as she stepped inside. The room was bare save for a chrome table and two chairs facing each other. She kept her eyes down as she took her seat, placing the pad on the table before activating it.

Leia leaned back after looking through some of the logged information. The man was a naval officer, rising through the ranks before ending up as admiral on the Dreadnought flagship, the Executor.

“I hope you’re feeling better, Admiral.” She said politely. “I must say it was quite the miraculous escape. If you’re experiencing any discomfort, do let me know right away.”

Firmus Piett glared at her. His slender, avian face curling into a sneer. “How considerate of you.”

It was a miracle that the man had managed to escape the collision at all. He sat stiffly in his chair, a back and arm brace over his detention centre uniform. The skin on the right side of his face was tight with healing burns, grey curls starting to emerge at the temples of otherwise fleckless brown hair.

“You have quite the record, Admiral. On paper you’re the perfect naval officer.”

“There’s nothing _on paper_ about it.” The man all but spat. “You don’t get to be in the position I was by having a record that didn’t match your conduct. Now, if you’ve brought me here to demoralise me, just get on with it.”

Leia bit her lip. It disheartened her to know that the Imperials were so quick to assume that her people only intended to dehumanise them upon defeat. It actually explained some of their rhetoric. Triumphant, the Rebels would seize any opportunity to humiliate them. They expected it.

“It would be a shame to let those talents go to waste.”

“What are you implying?” Piett asked, raising an eyebrow carefully, the skin around his eye stretching and cracking. “You expect me to muck in with your lot? Now, that would be something.”

“On the contrary,” Leia began, steepling her fingers, “we don’t expect anything from you. You were actually recommended to us. Quite highly.”

Piett’s lips twisted as he let out a shrill little laugh. “And by whom have I been so highly recommended?”

“One of your former superiors. He was quick to remind us that a man aboard his vessel didn’t last long with a lack of competence. Your intellect was also pointed out to us.”

Piett’s smile vanished. Straightening, his eyes darted around the room as if searching for something. His face appeared to have aged in an instant. “You’re lying.” 

Leia shook her head, holding her gaze with Piett, letting the moment settle before continuing. “Lord Vader was brought to us after the battle of Endor by Commander Luke Skywalker. He’s currently recovering on base due to extensive injuries.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Piett asked, his body still stiff and defensive.

“If only I knew where to start.” She replied with a sigh. “Your old comrade believed it was in his best interest to ally himself with us, that it’s in your best interest also.”

“The man was a zealot,” he sneered. “I got to the position I held partly due to the man’s quick temper, his willingness to dispatch subordinates for the most trivial of offences.” Piett shook his head. “Say I were to believe you, do you seriously expect me to work for him again?”

“Not for.” Leia corrected. “With.” She reached for the pad, slipping out a sheet of paper kept within its protective sleeve. She pushed it forward, Piett reaching with a stiff arm to pull it closer, hunching over it to read.

“The Empire is finished, Admiral Piett. Should you hold out, it will be in defence of a system quick to forget you for your failings, leaving you to languish. I purpose something better.”

“What can I expect in return?” He inquired, glancing up from under his brow.

“Amnesty for your actions under the order of the Empire. All crimes will be officially pardoned, your willingness to cooperate with us being proof that you’ve acknowledged your past ills.”

“That’s all in here?”

“All on paper and officially recognised by Alliance High Command. It will also be legally recognised by the New Galactic Republic.”

He sat silently for a moment, reading over the document, scrutinising its validity. His eyes met Leia’s, their harshness slowly fading. Piett’s gaze was now a questioning one, he seemed confused. “Why would you offer me this chance?”

“We’re not monsters, Firmus. Whatever you may have been told about us, all we want is the freedom of the galaxy. To fix things. You would be a great help to us. He saw it that way, what about you? Would you like the opportunity to rebuild something better?”

Those eyes began to search again, but not out of fear this time. It was as if Firmus Piett was searching within himself, delving deep to find something hidden. Buried and forgotten. His eyes returned to Leia’s.

“I’ll require a pen, if you’d be so kind.”

***

“I’m actually surprised you were able to get a consensus on it.” Luke said, sitting in the chair in front of Leia’s desk. “It’s a little unorthodox.”

“It wasn’t as straight forward as all that,” she replied, eyes glued to her datapad as she read over the information of the second ‘candidate’, drumming her fingers. “Amilyn and Commander Benik were quick to shoot the proposal down.”

“And Madine?” Luke asked, folding his arms.

“He abstained from even giving a verdict. Said something about letting us try our little ‘thought experiment’, that we’d change our tune when we were face to face with these men.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised by that.” He said with a sarcastic shrug, earning a smile from his sister. The young farm boy had really grown into his own. It was hard to imagine that he was the same person she had first met, feeling more like they were two identical strangers. They had all grown. With Luke, most evidently.

“So, about Kamino…”

“Let’s not dwell on it too much,” Luke cut in, waving his hand. “I’m confident the Kaminoans know what they’re doing, we just need to have a little faith.” His eyes moved to the pad. “Making any headway?”

“The admiral was oddly accommodating after the right few words had been said.” She looked up, reaching to take a sip of water. “There’s no reason for them to remain loyal. When push comes to shove, they’ll be discarded when their worth to the Empire has been called into question. Firmus knows that all too well.”

“A pretty harsh wake up call but a blessing in disguise. It’ll give him a chance to do some good.” Luke got to his feet, circling behind the desk and resting a hand on Leia’s shoulder. “Who do we have left?”

“A member of the Officer Corps, a Denon native. First assigned to the Death Star, then the Executor.” Leia pressed a button on the pad, bringing up a picture, zooming in for a closer look. “Took over the previously failing Project Swarm, which lead to the discovery of our Hoth base. He led the charge during the attack.”

She looked over her shoulder, watching her brother’s eyes widen slightly. The man in the picture was stern looking one. Solid stance with chest out, his hands behind his back. He stood with a group of other officers, flacked by a squadron of troopers, most of which he was noticeably taller than. “You think he’s going to listen to you?”

Leia regarded the picture again, looking into those piercing, calculating eyes. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out.

***

“Keep to your side of the table,” the guard had told her. “You’ll be watched at all times. If possible, please try to keep your fingers away from his face.”

When she had entered she was met with quite the surprise. A guard stood, lined up along the wall where there had been no one previously stationed. As she moved to sit down, those eyes followed her, the man’s head unmoving. She sat slowly, glancing up momentarily. Those eyes were still on her.

He sat straight, still conveying a sense of dignity despite prisoner’s garb. His chin was dusted with the beginnings of a light beard, no doubt from being stuck in the thick of battle. Unlike her previous interviewee, this man’s hands where shackled both at the wrist as well as to a belt around his waist.

“I hear you’ve been especially difficult,” she began, her head moving to meet that unflinching gaze. “I hope you’ll be willing to be a little more forthcoming.”

“Oh, aren’t we so very proud of ourselves?” General Veers said, leaning forward to cock his head slightly. “Must feel nice to have the shoe on the other foot.”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean.” 

“So you say,” he mused, shifting in his seat. “All coming out of the cracks like roaches once the threat is dealt with. Truly, you’re all so _very_ brave.”

Leia’s eyes moved to the guard as he stepped forward. She held up her hand, the man slowly returning to his position. No wonder the reports from other interviewers had noted how infuriating the general had been.

“Your emperor is dead, General.” Leia said, moving the pad aside. “Why continue to fight for him?”

“Typical of you Rebels. Quick to tie your cause to a single individual.” He leaned forward, steely eyes locking with hers. “It’s why you’re so weak. The Galactic Empire is not a single man, but an ideal.”

“Can you please explain to me what that ideal is?” Leia asked, genuinely curious.

“Stability.” The word came out hard, like the crack of a whip. “Safety and prosperity for the peoples of the galaxy.”

“I could disprove that notion quite quickly, General. Planets ravaged for resources. Natives enslaved and innocents slaughtered. Your ideal is built on fear. Surely you won’t defend that?”

“I defend what works, _Princess_. I suppose every one of your ranks fought their battles from the lap of luxury just as you did.” He cocked an eyebrow in mock contemplation. “I graced the field with my men. Where were you in the old days? Playing cloak and dagger in the Senate House in your pretty little dresses?”

“You will not-”

“Oh, but I shall.” Veers interrupted, the volume of his voice building to shout her down. “Pampered Princess Organa. You accuse us of being above you, throwing men into danger without a care. Everything was measured. Everything had a purpose. Every price had to be paid. We know full well what sacrifices need to be made for peace.”

She stood, pacing the room as she watched those eyes follow her. “I just don’t understand the likes of you.”

“Nor will you ever.” The general resolved, leaning back against his chair. “You don’t want to. You moralisers never do. Now enough with the charade, why have you brought me here? If you want a confession then I assure you that you will not have one.”

An interrogator with a broken nose and split lip. A guard with a cracked eye socket, another with two fingers bitten off. The man was not heartless. It was not this Imperial ideal that drove him to violence. She took her chair, moving it to Veers’ side of the table. The guard moved forward, aiming his blaster at the prisoner.

“Princess, please come away.”

“It’s alright.” She urged, raising a hand to coax the man to lower his weapon. She slowly turned her attention back to Veers. She spoke calmly and plainly, telling the man of the ordeal of his superior, his comrade’s willingness to defect. He did not fight her on this, merely listened. He looked confused at first, then to Leia’s surprise, a little disheartened. They sat quietly for a moment, then he finally spoke.

“I don’t know what you expect of me.”

“I expect nothing.” She corrected. “I’m _hoping_ you can understand that we want the same thing. It’s your methods we find disagreeable.”

“I shan’t sign anything just to save myself. Defeated or not, I refuse to debase myself in such a fashion.”

“Facing your mistakes is not a sign of weakness, Veers. Vader said you would hold to your convictions. Don’t throw your life away. Help us make a galaxy that’s free of war. For the sake of your children.”

At that, Veers’ body tightened. His shoulders squared, hands flexing into fists as he shifted closer to her. The guard was quick to move, pushing him back against the seat, blaster pressed to the general’s temple.

“You won’t threaten me, girl!” He snarled, his brow creasing. His jaw tensed as his lips twisted into a grimace. “The ice you tread is thin!”

“We can take them away from the Empire, we know where they are! They’ll be safe!”

The general stopped fighting, his mouth agape as though he’d just been slapped. Each attack, as reported, was at the mention of his family. The stern man became hard and quick to lash out at the thought of them being harmed. “We can take them away from all that.” Leia urged. “Don’t leave your wife to grieve, your children without a father.”

Veers slowly relaxed, the guard cautiously releasing his grip on the man’s shoulder while keeping his weapon levelled at him. Those hard eyes now scrutinised her closely. “Why?”

“I lost my father to this war.” She said, her eyes starting to mist. She hadn’t the time to properly grieve for the man she had called father, the man she missed so dearly. “It pains me deeply. I’d be lying if I believed I wasn’t guilty of causing that same pain. I don’t want to. Not ever again.”

He sat hunched in his chair, face down as he pondered. His eyes were filled with a sad longing, the face of a wife and two children still burning in his memory. Had he moved against the Empire, his family would surely pay the price. Leia would not allow that to happen.

“Stability, safety and prosperity for all the peoples of the galaxy, that’s what you said.” She reminded him, moving back to her side of the table and taking out the appropriate paperwork. “Your old lord showed us where to find them. This war is futile, Maximilian. I’d like to give them a life without conflict and bloodshed. Would you help me?”

Veers glanced over to the guard, slowly rising to his feet. He gestured with his bound hands. “I cannot sign like this.”

Leia nodded to the guard who nervously moved to unshackle the general while she pushed the paper across the table, offering him her pen. Taking it carefully, he turned the lean, black stylus in his fingers, examining it closely.

Perhaps he thought he had caught her in a lie. Perhaps he was contemplating what violence he could achieve with the point of that pen before the guard outside entered to gun him down. Leia would never truly know what was going through his mind as he continued to turn it over in his fingers.

General Maximilian Veers leaned over the table and put ink to paper, signing his name.


	15. Chapter 15

Luke slowly circled, the padding of the sparring room floor sinking under his feet as he listened out for the seeker droid hovering around him. Letting his left hand fall away from the saber hilt, he threw his arm up, deflecting two shots, twirling the saber in his hand at the apex of the arc and jumping out of the way of a third. He gripped the hilt in both hands, hearing the ball move to his left side. He ducked out of the way of the first shot, planting his stance and spinning the beam in a circle to deflect a quick flurry of shots before the seeker completed its sequence. He felt her presence before deactivating his lightaber, pushing the blast shield up on his helmet.

“Not bad.” Ahsoka nodded, unfolding her arms. “You’re pretty quick.”

“I think I do alright.” He said, placing the saber back on his belt. “You though, you’re a different story. I’ve never seen anyone move like that.”

“Have you seen many Jedi?”

“None, if I’m honest.”

“There’s no uniformed way of doing things.” Ahsoka began, stepping up onto the matt. “I’ve seen fighters with a strong, grounded stance. I’ve seen other fighters move like dancers. It’s all about how you move, not working against yourself.”

“All the same, I’d feel more comfortable having you with me in a fight as opposed to facing you.” Luke confirmed with a smile. The way she had twisted in the air above him back on Junjito had looked effortless for her, the years of training and battle probably making it as second nature to her as breathing. She smiled back.

“Give yourself a _little_ credit.” She stepped in front of him, adjusting her feet to stand more side on, still watching him. “Obi-Wan taught you well. What’s more impressive is how quickly he taught you.”

Luke’s eyes scanned her body. She stood with her feet apart, one hand hidden behind her back. His hand slowly reached in turn back to his belt before he moved, Ahsoka’s feet mirroring his as they started to slowly circle each other.

“He was a good teacher. I still have much to learn.”

“From what I heard, you’re a Jedi Knight.” She said playfully. “That’s quite an achievement.”

“And you’re a veteran of the Clone Wars. A combatant at fourteen, that speaks to your ability.”

“Old blades dull, kid. I haven’t had a good spar in quite some time.” She said, shifting herself into a more hardened stance. Luke withdrew his saber, holding his arm out with his thumb hovering over the activation switch.

“I can’t say I’m much of a dancer.”

“Then just try not to step on my toes.”

Luke took a few testing steps forward, Ahsoka lunging, causing him to retreat back to his previous position. She smiled somewhat slyly, her hand still behind her back. Luke sparked his saber, moving forward to swing from the side. She pushed herself forward, bending back and sliding under the green beam. By the time he had turned to face her she had already thrown herself forward, tumbling to right herself and moving up onto her feet. Out came her saber, the blade aimed at the young Jedi.

She pushed herself forward on long, nimble legs, driving herself forward to strike. Luke tilted back to absorb the force of the blow, letting her move to him before he strengthened his stance by placing his foot between hers.

Ahsoka pushed back, swinging downwards as Luke threw his arms up to meet the strike, the pair slowly circling as they traded blows. His eyes followed the length of her arm down to her slender hip. He moved his hand off the saber, pushing at the lock as he reached. He locked his gaze with hers, trying to keep his intentions hidden. He twisted his arm slightly when he felt her fingers tighten on him as she gripped his wrist.

“Clever,” she smirked, eyebrow raised, “just not quick enough.” She pushed his hand away, moving hers to grip the wrist of the one that remained on his saber hilt. She shifted back, planting a foot on Luke’s chest, throwing herself down and taking the young man off his feet. He fell toward her as she raised her second foot, propelling him over her onto his back.

Quickly, Luke kicked himself up onto his feet as she charged, pushing himself in past her swinging range, swiftly locking blades with her again. As her arm moved back down to grip the shorter sister blade, Luke wound his arm around Ahsoka’s waist, pulling her into his chest by the small of her back and pinning her wrist in place as she gripped the hilt. Their eyes met, sabers locked above each other’s head as his gaze remained fixed with hers. They stood for a silent moment before each duellist’s thumb moved to their activators, the beams retracting.

They broke apart, reattaching their sabers to their hips. Ahsoka gave a polite incline of the head, Luke repeating the gesture. She smirked. “And you told me you didn’t know how to dance.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go as far as that.” Luke chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

“I wish I could have seen the old goat one last time. In his prime, the man was a force to be reckoned with.” 

“He took care of me, that’s for sure.” Luke nodded, moving to the floor and crossing his legs. “I wouldn’t be here without him.”

Ahsoka moved to sit in front of Luke, crossing her legs and lightly gripping her feet, assuming a more meditative pose. “He was good at that, taking care of people. We were…a handful, I’m sure, your father and I.”

Luke’s lip curled up into a little grin. “You know, somehow I don’t doubt that.”

She reached up to cover her mouth with her fingers to stifle an oncoming laugh, clearly thinking about some far off time with her master and his. Her hand fell slowly, resting on her knee as her eyes slowly searched before her gaze met Luke’s. He straightened up, letting her take her time before she spoke.

“He really saved you, didn’t he?”

The young man nodded. “I asked him to come with me. To leave it all behind. I hoped I could convince him to listen. If I’m honest, I wasn’t really sure I could get through to him.” He remembered that unwillingness, thinking he couldn’t go back. Not after everything. “The Emperor would have killed me. My father’s the only reason I’m still alive.”

“I just…” she began, trying to formulate her words as best she could. “My master was dead, Luke. He was dead to me for so long. Then I saw him, under that mask. His eyes. I saw my friend behind that monster’s face.” She breathed deep, exhaling slowly. “I believe you, I do, but I don’t know how much of that man could have survived after all that time…all that blood.”

Luke said nothing for a moment, only reaching out his hand. She looked down at it, then back up at the young man. He didn’t have to try and sense her feelings, he could see the conflict on her face. Perhaps the Anakin Skywalker she knew was lost to time, that didn’t mean Darth Vader had to be all that was left. Maybe she could see that if she just allowed herself to look. “I could show you, if you’ll let me?”

Ahsoka Tano seemed to silently consider something for a moment before slowly reaching out, taking Luke’s hand.

***

When they stepped into the Sanctuary Garden, they were both greeted with open sunlight, a crisp breeze in the air. Water trickled soothingly from the ornate fountain as little birds perched undisturbed on the side, some bathing themselves while others nestled in the tree. Patients chattered amongst themselves, a few milling about, sitting on the seats by the fountain. Luke tapped her on the shoulder, gesturing subtly with his hand. He watched her expression, her face slowly falling.

He sat near the fountain with his back to the tree, a tray on his lap with a blanket thrown over his knees, a guard standing casually beside him. Luke reached back to take her hand, squeezing it softly as he led her, Ahsoka’s grip tight in his.

The older man glanced up as they approached, smiling at his son. His eyes then settled on the woman, an almost disbelieving look settling over his face as he gingerly moved to straighten himself in his chair.

“How are you feeling, father?”

He didn’t reply, his eyes were fixed on her. He pushed at the tray, Luke reaching down to take it. “It can’t be…”

Ahsoka moved to kneel down next to him, getting a closer look. She reached tentatively towards his face, Anakin taking her hand before it could settle on his cheek. Luke watched them closely, his father’s eyes starting to mist.

“I…it’s been a long time…”

“It’s been kinder to you than it has me, child.” He smiled softly, unable to hide the hint of shame Luke swore he could see. “Beautiful girl. Has it really been that long?” Ahsoka shook her head, unable to answer, her own eyes beginning to mist. She placed her other hand over his, lowering her head, sucking in her bottom lip.

“Come, now.” He urged softly, slipping his hand out from hers. He reached to cup her chin, tilting her head up. She flinched at first before allowing him to adjust her. “The Snips I knew would never let me catch her crying.”

“I wouldn’t have cried…and I’m not…” she said, clearing her throat.

He laughed, blinking at his dampening eyes. She screwed up her face, shrugging away from his grip. “You’re still an asshole.”

Anakin tilted his head to look up at his son, Luke feeling a sudden twinge in his chest. His father was _beaming_. “She was a handful,” he began fondly, “never listened, never did a thing she was told. Always so damn infuriating. One of the best fighters I’ve ever seen.”

“I found her floating around,” Luke said as he handed the tray to the guard, patting him the shoulder. “We’ll take it from here,” he smiled. The guard looked down at the older man then back to Luke and Ahsoka before nodding, turning to leave. He turned his attention back to his father, using the arm of the chair as leverage to lower himself down next to him. “She’s something else. I had no idea you had an apprentice.”

“I never expected to have a Padawan. Young as I was and at the height of the Clone Wars, I was a little resistant to the idea.”

“I don’t remember you being _a little_ anything about it.” Ahsoka cut in, looking up with tear rimmed eyes.

“Well, I was wrong.” Anakin replied. He turned to her again, reaching to take her hand. “There’s nothing I can say that will ever be enough.”

“I thought I’d lost you.” Her voice hitched when she spoke, tears now beginning to fall. Luke watched the woman’s eyes widen as he suddenly pulled her in, winding an arm around her, squeezing her to him. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his back, returning his embrace. His eyes were shut tight, tears threatening to streak his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Ahsoka.”

Luke allowed the embrace to linger a while longer, the two slowly releasing each other. He held his gaze with his student, her breaking eye contact only to wipe her cheeks. That fear seemed to vanish in his presence, Ahsoka still able to see some of her old master behind that harsh, scarred face.

“It really is you, isn’t it?” She asked, still searching for the man she had known. He thought for a moment. “I think it is now.” 

As Ahsoka moved to stand, his eyes returned to his son. Luke reached forward, placing his hands on the older man’s shoulders. His father moved his hand to squeeze Luke’s firmly. His face was serious now, his eyes fogged and watery as his lips tightened, as if to hold something back. “Thank you.” His own emotions welling, Luke pulled his father into him and the two embraced. It was as if the world had stopped. For a moment, it was only them in it.


	16. Chapter 16

“Gentlemen,” Mon Mothma began, smiling politely as she addressed them, “thank you for meeting with us today.” Anakin sat opposite her. To his left with his hands clasped in his lap and a fixed, unreadable expression, sat Veers. To his right, sat Piett, his head lightly inclined onto his braced shoulder. The three former Imperials carefully stared down the members of the Rebel High Command, who in turn watched them with a sense of curious expectancy.

“Senator,” Anakin inclined his head in recognition, Piett curtly nodding while Veers remained still.

Clearing her throat, she activated her datapad. “Before we begin, I would like to also thank you for your agreed cooperation. While it may not seem like it now, this is the start of a better future for everyone and you are helping to make that possible. For that, you have my utmost gratitude.”

Piett stood slowly, resting a hand on the table as the lights dimmed, a map appearing on the table’s surface. Anakin watched the man slowly scan the members of High Command before speaking. He swept his hand across the map. “After some discussion, my partners and I have complied a list of points of interest. These locations include both troop garrisons as well as regions that would be adventitious to have under your control.” He nodded to the Mon Calamari Admiral, Ackbar, who pressed a few buttons on the table’s console. When he did, various planets were highlighted with a glowing, pulsing ring around them.

“Ilum, 7G Sector of the Outer Reach. Bracca and Junjito of their respective systems in the Mid Rim. Mustafar, in the Western Reaches of the Outer Rim Territory. The Imperial Spaceport, Gall. Raxus Prime, also within the Outer Rim.”

Anakin couldn’t help but shudder at the mention of that fiery hellhole, thankful that he’d never have to look down onto the infernal landscape that robbed him of his body.

“Would you care to elaborate for us?” Mon Mothma asked, Veers leaning forward in his chair to address. “Both Bracca and Raxus Prime are overseen by the Scrapper and Mining Guilds respectively. Both planets have always been a source of excess materials, be that for weaponry or naval applications.”

“These planets are garrisoned on site but also have outposts on nearby moons. They keep a close watch on anything going in and coming out.” Piett added. “Eliminate any Imperial presence and the Guilds may be willing to negotiate.”

“Both guilds are thriving as is.” The young woman with the coloured hair cut in. “You really think they’ll be willing to negotiate with a fledgeling regime when they’ve benefited so greatly from the Empire’s control?”

“The Mining Guild is an independent faction.” Anakin replied, drawing the attention of the Rebel leaders. “So long as they can line their pockets they can be convinced of a mutually beneficial relationship. The Scrappers were firmly sided with the Confederacy during the Clone Wars. When we took over, workers wages were dropped and the safety standards in the shipyard lowered. They had no love for the old Republic, I’d wager even less for the Empire.” 

“Well, that certainly does seem in character for the likes of you.” She said with the hint of a smile.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you found facts so objectionable.” Anakin said, eyes fixed on her. “May we continue or are you going to flinch every time I mention something relevant?”

“You’d do best to remember where you are, Skywalker.” Madine squared his shoulders, leaning forward.

“Crix. Amilyn.” The Admiral warned.

“You’d also do well to take advice and heed it when it is given. Perhaps you’ve already forgotten but your hands aren’t so clean, are they, Commander?” The former general retorted.

Madine thumped his hand on the table, moving quickly to his feet. Veers was out of his seat as well, watching across the table for any sign of movement. The Mon Calamari slammed his fist on the table to pull the men’s attention back. Madine turned to meet his comrade’s eyes as Piett moved back, pressing a hand to Veers’ chest to keep him from advancing. The Admiral allowed the silence to settle for a moment. “Sit. Down.” 

The Rebel general moved slowly back down into his seat. Veers looked to his old superior officer. He nodded slowly. “It’s alright.” Veers moved back to sit, eyes fixed on Madine. Anakin looked across at Mon Mothma who had been sitting calm and collected. She reached out. “You may proceed, gentlemen.”

“Seizing control of Gall would be of obvious benefit.” Piett began again, pointing to the map. “Movement through this quadrant would be extremely limited, requiring further travel for repairs and refuelling.”

“Self explanatory.” Ackbar nodded. “Cut down their freedom of movement. You’d be able to help with that, I imagine?”

“Should be easy enough. A small team and an old landing code should get you into the port. So long as it’s on the system it should get you in.”

“I’ll see what we can dig up, what else do you have for us?”

“The next three locations we’ve flagged as high priority. Ilum is fully garrisoned. Most of the planet’s surface is barren and snow covered. The core of the planet, however, is kyber crystalline. Blasters, ship’s cannons and other plasma weaponry can be manufactured with those crystals. As long as the Empire has control over those mines, they’ll be able to continue to build their weapons.”

“Not without manpower or industry.” Madine interjected. “They may be able to obtain weaponry, the black market is still thriving but a sizeable munitions factory would be easy enough to locate and an easy target.”

“You’re forgetting about Mustafar, Madine.” Anakin corrected. “It’s on our list for a reason.”

“Some old Separatist factories, it’s been a graveyard for god knows how long.”

“Twenty four years,” he mused on that fact for a moment. “They’ve been inactive for twenty four years. The beauty of those factories is that they’re all automated. Not a single person needs to do a thing, well, nothing except get them up and running before imputing the schematics of whatever they might need.”

“These machines, Anakin, can they be reactivated?” Mon Mothma asked, the Command leaders looking to each other.

“It was toyed with at the beginning. With all the munitions left over from the Clone Wars, aside for our new projects, we had more than sufficient fire power. We did have technicians visit the factories. They’d be more than a little rusty now but most of everything is operational.”

Now they were dreading that hell hole as much as he always did, he could feel it. Those were good machines, well built and designed to last. So long as the Empire could keep control of both Mustafar and Ilum, they could keep their munitions coming.

“And what would you suggest?” The young woman asked.

“An aerial bombardment.” He said bluntly, a matter of fact. “You take your bombers and you reduce the place to rubble. Leave nothing.”

They all sat silently for a moment. He would be happy to help them destroy that place. The harsh heat and the evil, choking air. There were ghosts in that place. Ghosts of the war, phantoms that always lingers in the back of his mind. On the rare nights where he was allowed to just sit and think, he would see that beautiful spectre in his mind and her beauty haunted him. He felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him from his trance. Firmus Piett was looking at him, leaning in as everyone else looked on. “Is something the matter?”

“I…no, of course not.” He shook his head. “Please, continue.”

Piett paused for a moment, slowly taking his hand from his former superior’s shoulder before turning back to the Rebel commanders. “Our last location, Junjito, is home to a covert ship factory. We built it as a means to keep a foothold in the Mid Rim, hidden out of the way, until it was discovered by one of your operatives.”

“This is one of your priority targets, yes?” Ackbar asked, scratching his chin.

“Given the close proximity to this planet. In those hangers sit a series of bombers. Lightweight with a small but powerful payload, designed with the purpose of travelling without excessive protection from other fighters.”

“What would you propose, Firmus?” Mon Mothma asked.

“The bombers would still need protection from other craft, just not as much. A good shot to the underside from a good pilot would do the trick but I’d recommend destroying the craft before they take off.”

“You just leave that to us.” Ackbar nodded. “I’ll have a word with some of the officers and we’ll draw up a battle strategy.”

“Any further intelligence on each location can be provided when it is required.” Veers added, leaning forward to rest an elbow on the table.

“If I can talk to your computer engineers I should be able to obtain a floor plan of the factory.”

“Then that’s as good a place as any to start.” Mon Mothma nodded, slowly getting up from her chair. “Gentlemen, I thank you for your time today. If there’s nothing else to discuss, I’m happy to leave it there.”

The attendees got to their feet, Ackbar crossing the room to open the door. “We’re finished,” he called out into the hall. “He’s all yours.” One of the guards on his detail, Tanden, moved into the room to take the back of Anakin’s chair, walking backwards to lead him out.

“I was surprised to see that you’d actually made it out, Firmus.” Anakin said as the two ex-Imperials followed out after him. “Quite the stroke of luck if you ask me.”

“I think the better term would be bloody miraculous.” Piett corrected, lightly rolling his stiff shoulder. “We were both surprised ourselves when you asked for us.”

“The best time to jump a ship is when it’s sinking.” Veers added, looking down at his former superior. “What made you toss out the preserver to us? Veteran of the Clone Wars. Father of the Hero of the Rebellion. Were we really that much of a stand out to you in all our years of service?”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” Anakin replied, glancing up at the former general. “You’re a clever fellow, Maximilian. I’d hate to see you waste those talents.”

Veers looked down at him with that characteristically stern face. Anakin could swear that he could see the corner of his lip pull upwards under that forming beard. Though it might be pot calling the kettle black, he found it hard to imagine the man was even capable of smiling.

“Gentlemen,” a female voice called out. “A moment, if you please?”

“Oh, here we go.” Piett muttered under his breath. Anakin glanced over his shoulder to see the purple haired young woman following after them. She had an air of carefully constructed elegance, the dress she wore was more appropriate for a gala than any kind of hearing.

“Can we help you, madam?” Veers asked, a little suspicion in his eyes.

“Oh, no. I would just like to chat with your former commander.” She smiled, not an ounce of warmth in the gesture. “I won’t keep you two behind.”

The two eyed her carefully, Piett glancing down at Anakin. He nodded slowly. Both men turned and made their way down the hall, starting to engage in whispered chatter.

“General Skywalker,” she addressed him. “That was your title during the Clone Wars, yes?”

“Was.” Anakin reaffirmed. “Can I ask what it is you want, it’s Vice Admiral Holdo, isn’t it?”

“That’s correct,” she nodded, gesturing elegantly with her hand. “Please. Walk and talk with me.”

He nodded to the guard who began to push him forward slowly, the Vice Admiral keeping pace beside him, the click of high heels lightly echoing beneath her feet.

“High Command are all very pleased that you’ve decided to share your secrets with us. They will be of great benefit.”

“You don’t have to pretend you’re all as excited about it.” Anakin said. “I know you’d sooner get your information another way. I am, however, happy to be useful in some way.”

“Useful to the right cause, thankfully.” Holdo added. She lightly craned her neck, glancing down without having to properly meet his gaze. “Your son spoke well in his defence of you. He’s a very remarkable person.”

“He’s a good man. Better than most I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. Forgive me, but this isn’t some kind of social chat. If you could tell me what it is you wish to say to me.”

“I’ll speak plainly then.” Holdo answered, moving to turn to face him, standing in the path of his chair. “If we are to be allies, I think you need a quick lesson in decorum.”

“Is that so?” He asked curiously, brow slightly raised. “While I know it’s good manners to stand for a lovely young woman, you’ll have to excuse my obvious disadvantage.”

“You watch your tone with me.” Holdo cut in, light lines creasing the corners of her lips while she tired to hide her frown. “I imagine you mustn’t think so highly of me. A woman in my position must be quite different from your Imperial sensibilities.”

Tanden moved from around the back of the chair to escort the Vice Admiral on. Anakin raised his hand, lightly shaking his head to stop the man in his tracks. “Young lady. I’ve been fed enough bullshit from my own subordinates to be able to recognize the smell.”

“You disgusting-”

“You’ll speak when I’ve finished.” He cut in quickly, narrowing his eyes. “If you’d like to question my manners, madam, then perhaps you can lead by example. Keep your remarks to yourself and I shall be the picture of a gentleman, should that be what you wish. Push me, and I mean offer me one _iota_ of cheek and you’ll see quite well how hard I can bite.”

Holdo bit her lip, averting her gaze as she lightly gripped her hands together. It was clear that no one had ever spoken to her that way. Good. The little girl could have her wake up call. “I will not be bullied,” Anakin added. “Not by you or anyone else. If you want civility, pay it forward.”

“I won’t take up any more of your time.” She nodded, painting a sweet smile back across her face. She couldn’t hide that dull burn in her eyes. “Gentlemen.” She stepped aside, walking back down the hall as his chair was pushed past her.

“You know, I could have asked her to move on.” Tanden readdressed. “Anything’s better than a fight in the hall, especially in your condition.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call it a fight. Consider it ironing out a little misunderstanding.” Anakin said, leaning back into his chair, already quickly forgetting about the young woman and her poor attitude. He had reason to suspect he would be receiving a lime gelatine cube with his lunch. It was shaping up to be a nice day.


	17. Chapter 17

Leia had never really appreciated the complex political climate that had led to the Clone Wars. The ever increasing exclusivity of trade and the Naboo blockade, the Trade Federation’s involvement with the Confederacy of Independent Systems and Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas’ commissioning of the Clone Army. As a girl she rarely had time for the war when it came up in her lessons. War was for grown ups, not young princesses. If only she could tell her younger self how intriguing the topic actually was.

She had skimmed through records and archive footage, slowly becoming distracted from her original goal by being sucked into that world and its figures. Men and women she’d only ever known as old were now years younger, almost like entirely different people. She didn’t move her eyes from her screen when she heard a knock at the door. “Come in.”

She walked in silently, not wanting to disturb her friend as she sat opposite her at the large desk. Leia’s focus pulled, smiling softly at the woman. “You’re keeping busy.” Mothma said, returning the smile. “Not overworking yourself, I hope.”

“Just a little research.” Leia replied, slowly cycling through some more pictures. “Prime Minister Su seemed confident when I spoke with him.”

“They’re a proud people, the Kaminoans.” Mothma warned. “I do, however, believe we can trust them at their word.”

“I’ve also spoke with the medical team. They’ll be ready for him by morning.”

Her gaze was pulled by an old picture on the screen. Members of the senate all posing at some gala or another. Standing next to a young Sheev Palpatine was the man she had called father for most of her life. He looked strong. He had always looked so strong to her. She had met the man who she shared blood with but it was still hard to reconcile. The man who played games with her, taught her a great many things, who comforted her when she cried and made her feel safe and loved would always hold that place in her heart.

“What’s wrong, Leia?” Mothma asked, leaning in to touch her hand. Only when she placed her fingers to her cheek did she even know a tear had escaped.

“Oh, nothing. I’m fine.” She urged, wiping her cheek, forcing herself to smile. “It’s just been quite a time, this past while.” She thought for a moment. This would be as good a time as any. “Mothma, about Anakin…”

“It’s all been quite a state of affairs,” the older woman nodded, stroking Leia’s hand. “I thought he had died such a long time ago.”

“Was he a different man back then?”

“You don’t even know the half of it.” Mothma replied. “An up and coming young Jedi. Skilled. Handsome. He fought valiantly for the Republic, believe it or not.”

“Was there any talk of children?” Leia questioned carefully, making sure to give the impression she was talking about Luke.

“There were rumours, of course. The Jedi were an order of celibate warriors. If I must admit, they were a rather unusual bunch but they sought justice in all things. We never doubted their intentions.”

“Did you have any suspicions,” Leia prodded lightly, “as to these rumours?”

“Who could say really?” Mothma asked, considering the question. “Aside from his student there was only one woman he’d spend any sort of time with, as a bodyguard.”

Leia’s eyes drifted back to the screen, an image in the cycle capturing her attention. She reach to press a button, holding the picture in place. There were three subjects in this one. On the outside stood two men, both quite distinguished in their own way. One had a stern face with a neatly trimmed beard, the other had a mane of dark hair and an almost cheeky little look in his eyes, both dressed in traditional Jedi attire. The figure in the middle was a woman, smaller than both men. She wore a high necked gown and an ornate headdress holding back waves of long, brunette hair. She was a beautiful. The younger looking of the two Jedi, the one with the long hair, stood with his body turned slightly inwards towards the woman.

“Leia, dear?” Mothma asked, squeezing Leia’s hand lightly and pulling her from her daze.

“I’m sorry. I…” she began before shaking her head. “Could you come and look at this for me?”

Mothma rounded the desk slowly, bending forward to look at the screen. She regarded the figures carefully. “This was during the height of the Clone Wars.”

“Do you recognize these people?”

Mothma nodded, lifting a hand to point at each figure. “The man on the left is Obi-Wan Kenobi.” She moved her finger to the other. “The one on the right is Anakin Skywalker.”

Leia’s eyes widened slightly. Mothma was right, he was very handsome as a young man. It was hard to imagine the man she’d met as young and roguish, especially in his current position. She licked her lips nervously before continuing. “And the woman?”

“Senator Padmé Amidala. Anakin was charged with protecting her on more than one occasion.”

The beautiful young senator’s regal look couldn’t hide her almost sad eyes, as though she were keeping a grave secret, her hands folded delicately over her stomach. Leia cleared her throat. “This was her, Anakin’s secret affair?”

“There’s no way to be sure.” Mothma corrected. “He disappeared when things began to turn in the Emperor’s favour. Padmé was pregnant when she died but perhaps that may have been staged for the funeral. To protect Luke.”

Leia slowly turned in her chair to meet Mothma’s eyes. She breathed in slowly, exhaling before taking the plunge. “Not just Luke.”

***

The halls were dim and quiet when she made her way to the medical centre, just coming into the early evening. She had no idea how to even begin to breach the subject. At this time the corridors were devoid of life, some of the other patients already bedding down for the night. She felt guilty for following up on her little investigation now, he would need his rest for the procedure. She had to reconcile with the fact that she may not be able to get the answers she was after if she left things for much longer. She wouldn’t press him too hard. She would ask, then leave.

The captain herself stood outside the door, her arms folded behind herself, face forward. As she neared, the door slowly opened. Luke and Dr. Lutz stepped out into the hall; her brother was the first to notice her.

“Leia, what brings you down here?”

“I just thought I’d check in before he’s settled,” Leia half lied. She glanced over Luke’s shoulder to look at the doctor. “How is he?”

“Oddly calm.” Lutz confirmed. “He had us explain the procedure to him, no detail left out. Having more information on these things can be good for any lingering anxiety.”

“What about your team?” Leia asked.

“All prepped and ready to go bright and early, ma’am.”

She glanced back at Luke. He seemed a little far off, his eyes slightly distant. He could hide it on his face but his stiff, squared shoulders and fixed stance gave him away far more than he would have been willing to admit.

“How are you feeling?” She leaned in to whisper. He just smiled softly, shaking his head.

“He’s in good hands. The lab techs were confident when the replacement organs were collected. All we can do now is wait and see.”

Slowly, she reached out, taking his arm and squeezing it softly. He managed another smile, one that she returned before leaning up to kiss his cheek. Her brother nodded before he and the doctor made their way down the hall and disappeared around the corner. As she turned to face the doorway again, she was greeted by a saluting captain.

“At ease, Captain.” Leia said, the other woman moving back into a more relaxed stance. “I’m surprised to see you down here personally.”

“If I may speak freely, ma’am, I’ve spent a decent amount of personal time with the old tearaway since being put in charge of him.” Her eyes fell slightly before quickly returning to the princess. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned.”

“We’ll do all that we can to keep him pestering you for a while yet.” Leia playfully encouraged, Captain Reece managing a small smile. “May I see him?”

“Dr. Tambra will be returning soon to bed him down.” She said, guiding Leia towards the door. “He does need his rest.”

“I understand,” she nodded, the captain leading her into the room. Anakin sat propped up on his pillows, sipping water through a straw. He pushed the glass aside, lightly wiping his mouth. “Captain. Princess.” He greeted. “We’re busy here today, aren’t we?”

“I wanted to see how you were doing. Do you mind?” She asked, indicating a chair beside the bed.

“By all means.”

Leia rounded the bed to sit down as Captain Reece retreated to take up position back outside the door. Anakin slowly adjusted himself to get more comfortable while Leia sat with her hands on her lap.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good.” He replied. “As well as I can be. The procedure sounds quite interesting.”

She cocked her head at that, shaking it slightly. “I can’t understand how you could want to know something like that, all things considered.”

“If I were having a ship repaired, I’d much rather know what was being done to it, hear that the mechanic knew what they were doing. I look at it somewhat like that.”

She tried to look for some crack in the facade but he did appear calm. It was a little unnerving, knowing he would be going under the knife and seemingly not even showing a signal hint of trepidation. She had to give it to him, he did seem fearless.

“About our first formal meeting,” he cut back in, “I’m sure you weren’t prepared to play junior nurse. My apologies for that, though I do appreciate the intervention.”

“I’ve done a lot of things over the past few years that aren’t exactly fitting for a princess.” She said, unable to help herself from chuckling. “I think I can handle someone being sick.”

“Well, all the same. You didn’t have to but you did.”

She thought for a moment on how to approach. She didn’t exactly want to drop a bombshell, especially now of all times, though there couldn’t possibly be a _good_ time for her inquiry. “Anakin. I’d like to ask you something, if I may.”

“I’ve given you all I can right now, Princess.” He said, taking another drink through his straw, lightly smacking his lips. “Our strategy is outlined fairly clearly. Should anything happen to me, continue to listen to Veers and Piett. I’ll keep you on the right path to achieving your goals. Allow them to help and you’ll surely-”

“Padmé Amidala.” Leia said, her fists tightening in her lap. “That was her name, wasn’t it? Was that our mother?”

If he could become any paler then she imagined that he would have in that instance. His body became tense, his shoulders hard and squared. He looked out straight ahead of him, wide eyed at nothing. His jaw was hard, his lips little more than a crease on his face. Even with his mouth closed, she could tell, the man was clenching his teeth. He turned quickly, Leia fighting the urge not to jump in her seat. He pushed himself closer to her, eyes narrowing as he scrutinised her carefully, the room deathly silent. “How did-”

“Luke told me what you’d told him. I can’t really say how he knew about me but I did some digging. It took a little time but I think I got the dates right. Is it true?”

He reached to brush his face with his palm. He suddenly looked so much older now, leaving Leia to wonder how that could even be possible. His eyelids looked heavy, as if he were now fighting to stay awake.

His eyes met hers again. “That’s a name I thought I’d never have to hear again.” Anakin said, his voice barely above a whisper. “She was a remarkable woman, brave and strong. She was an angel. My angel.”

“What happened to-” she stopped sharply, cutting herself off. “No. No, I’m sorry.”

“You were separated for your own protection. Obi-Wan’s doing, no doubt.” He shook his head. “Twins. The idea of one child was startling when she first told me… but two? A son and a daughter.”

“It was a lot to take in for me too.” Leia said, starting to slowly relax in her chair. She leaned forward slightly. “If it’s alright, I just…what was she like?”

“She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. For every ill you could speak of me, she was the opposite. Selfless. Compassionate. We lived in two very different worlds and I thought I could never have her. I’d never been more happy to be proven wrong…and what I did put that woman in her grave.”

Leia reached to cover her mouth. Anakin’s face softened as he looked at her, his bottom lip tight as the welling of his eyes slowly escaped to streak his face. He pulled back quickly, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“Please, no more.” Leia urged, almost pleadingly. Despite everything, the more she saw of him, the more human he became. “You’re supposed to be getting your rest.”

“You’re right.” He agreed, letting himself drop back against his pillows. “I’m sorry. Those are things I never thought I’d dwell on again.”

Leia stood slowly, moving back around the bed towards the door. As she approached, the door opened to reveal Dr. Tambra. She jumped slightly, straightening up.

“Princess. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I just wanted to see how your patient was doing before the big day.”

“Oh, he’s improved greatly.” The doctor said proudly. “Both parties putting the work in, of course. We make a good little team.”

“I can certainly see that.” Leia managed a smile. She turned over her shoulder. “I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll let you rest now.”

She moved past the doctor, making her way towards the door, only to stop as it slid open. “Leia.”

She turned slowly, shocked when she heard the voice. It was strange to say his name out loud, it was somehow even stranger to hear him say hers. “Anakin?”

“I’ll tell you everything. After I’ve recovered. Anything you ask, I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

All she could do was nod slowly, turning on her heel and exiting. She waited until she got to the end of the hall before picking up speed, all but marching through the facility and out into the crisp air. The stars were just starting to show in the inky stretch of sky above her. As she looked up to watch the stars in the night sky, Leia Organa reached up to wipe the tear from her cheek.


	18. Chapter 18

Anakin could hear water as he awoke. He shouldn’t have been able to hear water. The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes were the overhead lights as he was surrounded by a medical team in their scrubs, masked faces hovering over him, ready to cut open his chest and pry his ribs apart. Anakin shouldn’t have been able to hear water.

He levered himself up, moving off his front and up onto his knees. The sky above him was a washed out grey, the sound of the water coming from an inky, foamy sea that swept in around his knees. He reached to wipe the grains of wet sand from his face. He hated sand. That dusty, hot reminder of years spent as a slave. At least this sand was moist and cool. He tested the texture between the skin of his fingers.

He stopped for a moment, inhaling deeply. He could feel the sand on the pads of his fingertips, itching at the creases of his palms. Slowly, he looked down at two dirty flesh and blood hands, the grey sand collecting in clumps under his fingernails.

He could have cried as he knelt there in the sand, his mind playing some cruel game with him as he took in every ridge and crease. He blinked, testing his grip and feeling the stretch of his skin. Wherever he seemed to be now, it would do him no good staying.

Slowly pushing himself to his feet, he stuck out his hands to catch his balance as he felt the wet sludge under the soles of his boots.

He pulled his feet from the suckling mire and started to walk, stepping wide to keep himself from falling. When he was a child, things like lakes and seas were foreign to him. Even the smell of grass or the chill of rain where alien to him. As a boy, he never thought he would experience these things most took for granted and be so mystified by them.

Trudging past jagged rock pools, he could see crabs picking at the bodies of fish who had been trapped by the low tide, the carrion meat being nipped and torn by tiny, powerful claws. The sight of the still wriggling fish turned his stomach.

He continued his way up the beach which ended at a rocky outcrop. Digging his boots in, he started to pull himself up the stony mound. The skin of his palms trapped small stones which dug in as he hefted himself up, his biceps knotting as he pulled himself out.

The landscape before him was rocky with rolling, dark green hills and mountains jutting up from the ground like crooked teeth. His shadow was cast out long in front of him, a shapeless black mass with flowing robes. He looked over his shoulder to see the sun cutting a reflective white line across the black sea, the beach endless. When he turned back, his shadow was replaced by a man. He was robed and hooded, his hands tucked into his long sleeves. Anakin’s jaw tightened when he saw the well kept beard.

“What do you want?” Anakin demanded, folding his arms across his chest. The figure didn’t answer. “Speak!”

“Still as you were when I left you.” The man answered, the voice sending a shiver through Anakin that he couldn’t ignore. The voice wasn’t that of the old man he had duelled on the Death Star; it was a reminder of his younger days.

“You always were so reckless. I thought I could tame that anger.”

He bit his lip, feeling it sting as he did. Who was he to lecture him now? He left him to die. Face down in the dirt. He never forgot the excruciating pain, the overpowering stench as his skin blistered and charred, his hair singed from his split scalp, his clothing melted to his body.

He extended his arms. “What is this? Another one of your tests, _Master_?”

“There’s nothing more I can teach you.” The man replied. “I gave you all that I could. Will you try to listen to me? One last time?”

Anakin’s eyes narrowed. This couldn’t be who he thought it was, not really. He knew where he really was but everything was so vivid, almost frighteningly so. He knew he’d be unable to wake so why not indulge this spectre?

“What would you have me do?” Anakin sighed. The figure merely turned, not bothering to look back or answer before he started to walk. Pulling his robes tighter around himself, he marched on behind the shade of his former master.

***

They walked across the rolling landscape, over the dying grass and winding hills. They walked in silence, nothing but the sound of the wind and the rare chorus of birdsong to remind him that the void they were in wasn’t so lifeless. The found themselves at the foot of one of the imposing mountains. The shade withdrew his hand from his robes and touched the rock, it looked like an old man’s hand. He looked up as the figure did. It was steep, jagged and a long way up. When he looked back, the figure was gone, replaced with a shadow stretched out behind him. It was clear enough what he wanted of him.

Anakin gripped at each jutting rock and jagged overhang, pulling himself up the side of the great mountain. He could feel the blood pumping through his veins, feel muscles long gone burn as he climbed. He could even feel long lost hair blowing when the wind picked up, forcing his body against the rock for purchase.

He had spent most of his time climbing with caution, worrying how his sweating palms would effect his grip or how his boots might effect his balance. He remembered a time when he wouldn’t have been so nervous or careful. Taking a deep breath, hindered by the now frigid air, he jumped.

He kicked with strong legs, gripped with strong fingers. His heart thundered in his chest as he jumped and dove, propelling himself through the air. He remembered when he and Obi-Wan had chased that assassin through Coruscant. He remembered the wind rushing past his face and through his hair as the lights of the city and ships streaked past his vision in a blur. He wasn’t afraid of dying then. Why should he be now? Dancing up the rocks with ease, even when he felt the odd bolder give way beneath his feet, he didn’t care.

Breathless by the time he reached the top, he pulled himself up with burning arms to at last be allowed a chance to rest. He lay on his back, eyes closed and panting. He gave himself a moment before rolling onto his front, pushing himself to stand. The air was oddly warm for this altitude. The smell of sulphur answered his question as soon as it was raised.

At the flattened out section of the peak, the ground was peppered with open craters and crags, each one filled with white bubbling water that melted most of the snow that lay on the ground. These ancient grounds were surrounded by tall pillars, as though this place was cradled in the palm of a giant. Ahead of him was a small flight of rock-cut steps leaning up to the entrance of what looked like an ancient temple. The figure sat on the steps.

“That climb wasn’t what you were asking of me,” Anakin called out, his voice ringing through the air. “That much is obvious. Speak plainly and tell me why you’re here.”

“If you wake, what will you do?” The figure asked in a much older voice. The beard that Anakin could make out was now flecked with strands of grey.

“I’ll live.” Anakin answered. “I’ll live as best I can.”

“Do you think that’ll wash the blood off your hands?”

“Redemption be damned!” He barked back. “When you wash your hands of it, you only leave the water bloody. Not everyone will forgive me or ignore the blood on my hands but I’ll add no more to it!”

Anakin strode forward, walking down the path between the pools to reach the shade. As he neared, he dislodged something with his foot, the sound of metal scraping against the toe of his boot as the object bounced and rolled to splash into one of the pools. There were more of them sticking out of the cracked earth. No two looked identical but each were unmistakably the same object. They were dirt encrusted and lost to time. Some were straight and narrow, others were thick and sturdy while some were curved. He felt his stomach churn as he stood among these little grave markers; if he examined carefully he might even be able to match each saber to its user.

“What is this place?” He muttered, more to himself. He lifted his head to look at the shade. “Where the hell have you brought me? What is this!”

The figure was now standing, his lips curling into a smile. “You forget what you are, Skywalker. You forget what you were made to be.” The voice was now rattling and wet. Anakin could feel his skin crawl. It couldn’t be.

His focus was broken by what sounded like an animal’s growl, the primal sound amplified by the walls of the inner temple. The owner of the growl emerged slowly, turning his blood cold.

The creature slunk across the ground with large, gnarled hands, its claws scraping at the stone. Its body was hunched and black, even in its present stance it looked massive. Its limbs rippled with knotted muscle; leathery, shredded wings dragging behind it. Anakin could hear his own pulse in his ears as the beast stood to expose a leathery face with a producing, rectangular snout with needle sharp teeth the length of a man’s finger. Its eyes were round and black, shining and reflective like two sheets of glass. Those eyes were burning into Anakin.

“Hate is like any animal.” The shade said, smiling to reveal crooked, yellowed teeth. “Feed it and it grows.”

Anakin braced himself, slowly reaching into his robes. His blood froze when he could feel nothing at his belt. He kept his eyes on the beast as it slunk back down onto all fours, crawling its way down the steps. Anakin moved slowly back as it approached, its chest heaving as it let out persistent, one note wheezes. He pushed himself back to run but it was already on him.

The shriek cut through the air, the monster bowling him over and sending him to the ground. He crawled back as quickly as he could, bringing his arm over his face to try and shield himself from an oncoming strike. Anakin cried out as the claws ripped into his arm, shredding the skin. He looked at the wound with horror, screaming when he saw the metal beneath his shredded flesh.

He brought both hands up, shielding his face as best he could while the beast slashed his arms to ribbons. The blood trickled down his arms, falling to blind him.

Anakin brought his foot up, planting it on the creature’s chest before pushing hard to launch it back. The beast staggered momentarily as he pulled himself to his feet. He twisted his body, avoiding another slash as he tried to run past the beast. It sprung back, howling as it threw a gnarled hand forward, slashing Anakin across the face. The force of the blow sent him crashing to the ground, landing next to one of the spring pools.

He fought to get up, feeling strong, wiry hands on his neck as he was pushed forward. He could hear the beast wheezing into his ear as it pushed him down, his face inches from the boiling water. Anakin screamed as he fought to hold himself up, the fingers of his left hand slipping into the water. He cried out in pain, water spitting up to burn his cheek as he twisted his head in a fruitless effort to escape. 

He closed his eyes, his breathing heavy as he prepared himself. He didn’t want to die. After all the death he had caused, now he was afraid to die. The Irony was laughable. This horrific nightmare might be the last thing he ever experienced but he would not die a coward. Fight to remember to awaken or slip deeper and die. Anakin plunged his right arm into the water.

He screamed so hard it hurt. The boiling, hot pain bringing back the day that changed him. The anger forged in fire. Anakin reached back with his free hand, gripping the creature by the back of the neck. He pulled it down over his shoulder, his cheek pressing to the surface of the boiling pool as he forced the creature’s face in. The beast threw itself off him, howling in pain as it clutched its still steaming face. Now it was his turn.

 _He_ was howling now, his face blistered, his hand melted down to that metallic construct he knew too well. He threw himself down on the creature, driving his fists down into its chest and face. Its teeth ripped his knuckles as he punched but he didn’t care. Killing was easy. He could kill just as easily as he could blink. He would rip this thing to pieces with his bare hands.

The beast reached up, desperately clawing at Anakin’s face to force him back. It twisted its body under him, forcing itself onto its feet before biting down on Anakin’s shoulder. He clenched his teeth, the veins standing out in his neck and face as he gripped the beast, black bile running down his fingers as they broke the skin of the monster’s face. Anakin swung himself as hard as he could, throwing the beast down with a splash into one of the pools. It shrieked and wailed wildly as it flailed in the water, steam rising from its writhing body.

The sounds around him started to become distant, his body growing cold as his eyes started to lull. He was so tired. He watched wearily as the beast crawled from the water, scalded and whimpering as it collapsed, panting on the ground. He clenched his fights, trying to force himself to his feet, only to feel his body weighing him down. He lowered his head, struggling to breathe as the panic started to set in.

Anakin’s eyes drifted to the heaving body of the beast. It was staring back at him but it looked much smaller now. It dragged itself across the ground to slowly pull itself up in front of him, snarling into his face. He could feel another presence with him now, standing behind him. He could hear the flapping of robes in the wind. He felt calm somehow, remembering that wise, noble stranger who came to take him away. Anakin didn’t even have to look back. He knew who he felt there. 

Slowly, he closed his eyes, feeling the monster’s breath on his face as he tried to relax. He felt lighter now as his breathing became much easier. He no longer felt any pain; he couldn’t even hear the creature, only feel its breath of his face. He felt at peace now, despite knowing what might come. He bowed his head, all sound dissipating, blocked out as he focused on his breathing.

Opening his eyes, the creature was now curled up on the ground, panting as it lay by a pair of delicate bare feet. His eyes slowly followed the flowing fabric of her dress, breath hitching when he finally met her gaze. She smiled down, shaking her head lightly. She spoke but he could hear no voice. She spoke again. He watched her lips carefully. _Not yet._

Anakin’s head became light as everything started to fade.


	19. Chapter 19

“The hanger is defended by a shield, the power of which is provided by an internal generator.” Miss Anoki from the technicians department explained, waving her hand over the topmost area of the mountain projected on the map. “Our first objective is to down that shield generator. Keep them from hunkering down while batting back our forces. Dela?” The Twi’lek nodded to Captain Reece. Luke watched as she moved over to the map.

“Intel from our ex-Imperial liaison tells us that our best point of entry is on foot.” Captain Reece pointed, bringing up a highlight on the map. “The workers take materials through this entrance on the east side of the mountain. My team will enter from here and bring down the generator from the inside before making our way to the hanger.”

“Why can’t we just bombard the mountain?” A pilot piped up. “We choose the right target and we could bypass the shield and bring the mountain down on top of them.”

“Their mines are manned by civilian locals.” Luke answered, arms folded. “We hit the mountain, we’ll kill innocent natives.”

“Firmus told us that the base was built to withstand a frontal assault.” Miss Anoki added. “They’ll not be expecting a team to use an entrance used only by workers. It’ll be guarded, of course, but we’ve been informed that the likelihood of meeting heavy resistance is low, especially from a remote garrison that’s supposed to be a secret.”

“The captain and I will breech the maintenance entrance, plant explosives and secure the area before making our way to the main hanger.”

“That’s where we come in.” Flight Commander Glyn spoke up, rounding the opposite side of the table. “While the captain’s making herself busy on the ground, we, on her signal, will drop our guys and enter the fray. The troop carriers will provide ground support while we cover the hanger entrance from the sky. We’ll take out the surrounding cannons and try to keep their bombers pinned. If anyone slips past, leave them to us.”

The plan was straight forward enough; both squads coming in from either side, providing support for the other, keeping the enemy’s focus pulled long enough to allow them to destroy their aircraft. The men formed into their groups, heading off to the hanger to get ready to depart. “Dela!” The technician called out. Captain Reece turned to face the other woman.

“Something else you need, Noi?”

“Just don’t go doing anything stupid now, you hear, hon?” She urged, her hands on her hips. The captain marched around the table, giving the technician a quick departing hug. “Don’t you worry, I’ll have a Jedi Knight watching after me.” Noi smiled sweetly at Luke, who responded with a nod and small smile of his own. The two seemed close, friends from across departments perhaps.

“Let’s hop to it, Commander.” The captain said as she passed him. “The bird’s calling and she’s ready to fly.”

The captain’s unit began to form around him as they marched from the briefing area. The introductions were light, just enough time for a few nods before the briefing began. They were an unusual sort, rough and tumble looking, all walking in step, dressed in uniform that more than breached regulation. He watched as one of them, a Rodain, strode forward quickly to open up the ship. A blaster pistol hung from his hip, a duffel bag gripped tightly in his left hand, the phrase _‘Big Damage’_ scrawled up the back of his vest in red.

He remembered that beat up ship when he saw it touch down upon his first arrival to the base. He’d learned not to judge a ship by its appearance until he saw it run. The Falcon had taught him that.

“I see that look in your eye.” A voice said as a large hand slapped Luke on the shoulder. “She don’t look like much but our gal’s never let us down.” The man was tall, with a wild mane of hair that would have put a Wookiee to shame and a long but well kept braided beard. “Lieutenant Schrovec. It’s an honour to have you roll out with us, Commander Skywalker.” 

“The pleasure’s all mine, Lieutenant.” Luke replied, offering a hand which Schrovec shook with a crushing but not unfriendly firmness. The others filed into the ship, the lieutenant and the captain stepping aside to let Luke board. As each member of the unit strapped themselves in, Schrovec moved to take the helm. 

As Luke sat down, the captain moved in to talk to the pilot. He felt eyes glancing at him as he strapped himself in. “I gotta say,” one of them, a Twi’lek female, called out, “makes me feel a might more confident with a Jedi riding with us.”

“What’s wrong, Amora?” One of the men asked. “You didn’t seem nervous getting down and dirty on Kashyyyk. You loosing your edge some?”

“How about you come on over and kiss my turquoise ass, Dane?” 

“Children, try to play nice. We’ve got a guest with us today.” The man sitting next to Luke said sternly, the formal facade undone by the smirk on his face. “Glad to have you aboard, Commander. Sergeant Deneon Kytes, at your service.”

Luke reached to accept the offered hand, shaking it firmly. “It’s good to be along for the ride, Sergeant.”

“We may be a little more unconventional than you’re used to but make no mistake, we know how to fight and we’ll have your back.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short.” Luke shook his head. “I don’t have the most conventional group, myself.”

Grinning widely, Sergeant Kytes let out a snort of laughter. “Still got the job done, though!”

“Everyone comfy back there?” Lieutenant Schrovec called back as Captain Reece returned to take a seat with her crew, belting herself in. She looked across at Luke, nodding. He returned the gesture.

“Now everyone’s going to be on their best behaviour for the Commander?” The captain asked, her question answered with a wordless hoot from her squad. Luke felt the floor shift beneath him as the lieutenant took the ship up, manoeuvring out past the hanger doors, commencing a steady climb into the air.

***

The ship lurched as it came out of hyperspace, the squad already preparing their munitions for the mission. Privates Dane and Amora sat with their rifles; Amora with hers laying across her knees while Dane cradled his with care, like an infant. The sergeant checked over his pistol while Captain Reece sat with her arms lightly folded. It was the Rodain who caught his eye.

The demolitions specialist squatted down on the floor, looking through his bag, rifling wrist deep through his supply. Luke watched as he took out thermal detonators, charges and explosive trigger devices. He had lowered himself to the floor, crossing his legs before taking apart two of the grenades with a set of dainty tools. He removed charges and explosive cores as he patiently constructed his own custom device as contently as a little child with a set of building blocks. 

“Is that safe to do while we’re flying?” Luke asked Sergeant Kytes, gesturing with his head to the busy Rodain. Kytes leaned forward as far as his belt would let him. “Scuttler? Scuttler!”

The specialist twisted his neck, looking over at the two with large black eyes. He didn’t reply, just waited for Kytes to continue as he leaned his head in, ready to listen.

“He’s a touch deaf on this side.” Kytes explained, tapping his left temple. “You’re making the Commander nervous! Not gonna blow us all to hell like that, are you!”

Scuttler stared a moment before letting out a raspy chuckle, screwing a detonator case shut with both cores inside. “One way ticket to bu-bu-boom town, only when I says. These mu-magic hands.” He set his work down for a moment, splaying his fingers. “Do _you_ no wrong, boss.”

“Scuttler’s one of the best I’ve ever worked with.” Captain Reece cut in. “Could blow the doors off a bunker or catch a butterfly without pulling its wings off. Saved my ass on at least one occasion.”

When Luke glanced back, Scuttler had already went back to his work. That’s when he noticed it. His fingers were slow and careful but there was the slightest, persistent tremor in his hands.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, sir,” Private Amora piped up, “but is that old fella you brought back really Anakin Skywalker? He really your daddy?”

“You don’t need to be asking the Commander about his or anyone else’s daddy, Private. Keep your head in the game.” Captain Reece softly reprimanded, shaking her head to Luke in the form of an apology.

“No, it’s fine.” Luke reassured, turning his head to look at the Twi’lek. “As strange as it seems, Private, he is. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“Not really, sir.” Amora shrugged. “I mean, we all know who he was but he and them other fellas told us about this place. Reckon he can’t be so bad no more, if they did that.”

They were operating on him today. While they were out here, his father would be on an operating table, more than likely fighting for his life. He wouldn’t admit it, but the thought scared him. The idea of his father trying to do some good, only for the ills of his past to finally destroy his body left Luke’s stomach in knots. He lowered his head, trying to shake the thought. When he looked back up, he came face to face with the captain’s steely green eyes staring into his “Luke. You alright?”

“I’m fine,” he answered after a pause, “just getting my head in the game, Captain.”

Schrovec had taken them down into the frozen tundra, preparing to land by one of the nearby mines. He flew in low, trying to keep them off the enemy’s radar before touching down. While Luke and the squad unstrapped themselves, the captain and the lieutenant took up their weapons, the others readying to disembark. As they readied themselves, slipping into their coats, Scuttler opened the ship before leading the squad one by one out into the snow.

The natives were hard at work, so much so they didn’t seem to notice their arrival at first. It was only when they approached that the workers started to get antsy. Schrovec raised a hand, waving. “Hey there, fellas!” He called out. “I’m thinking we can do you a favour.”

There were no guards stationed here, which Luke was thankful for. In the event of any trouble there would be nowhere for the workers to go but deeper into the wasteland. The nearest settlement was too far to walk, even in protective clothing.

“What is it you want with us?” One of the workers, more than likely a foreman, asked.

“Us? Oh, we’re site inspectors.” Schrovec answered. “We were informed about this little operation going on out here and we’re here to speak to who’s in charge of this outfit. We’re here to respond to…worker complaints, if you get my meaning, friend.”

The foreman looked them over, the other workers eyeing their weaponry and ramshackle ship. He nodded, seeming to understand. “I see. How might we be able to help you with that?”

The workers seemed to loosen up as their foreman and Schrovec continued their conversation. It was clear from Luke’s last visit to Junjito that the Empire had more than outstayed their welcome and were unwilling to uproot and leave. The miners appeared more than happy to allow them to speak on their behalf.

After a little negotiation, two of the workers appeared with a hovercart and tarp. “We secure the sheet down through these loops here,” he explained, pointing to the rings along the cart’s frame. “Keeps everything piled up and all together.”

“Are they expecting a delivery today?” Sergeant Kytes asked.

“Yes, sir. Not for a few more hours, at least.”

“What do you think, Captain?” The Lieutenant asked, heads turning to Captain Reece for her approval. She stood for a moment before nodded. “Let’s give them a nice surprise.”

***

“You aren’t expected until later,” one of the troopers began, holding his hand up. “What is this?”

Luke held his breath. The four stormtroopers stood at the mouth of the tunnel, weapons at the ready. Schrovec stood to the right of him, hands on the handle of the cart, Captain Reece and Kytes flanking him. Each of them had pulled their hoods tight up over their heads, trying their best to keep their faces obscured.

“Foreman sent us on ahead.” Kytes replied quickly. “We’re a little ahead of schedule, wanted to start sending us along.”

“About time these bumpkins got their asses in gear.” One of the troopers quipped. Schrovec took that as an invitation, pushing the cart onward. The other’s followed suit, Luke coming into the warmth of the overhead lights of the tunnel. They were stopped in their tracks when the head of the squad put his foot up on the front of the cart, blocking them from pushing it forward. “Take the tarp off. Show us what you’ve got.” 

“You’re the boss,” Schrovec nodded. “You heard him, fellas.” Luke and Kytes rounded to unclip the harness straps, slipping them out of the rings. As Kytes let go, Luke tugged forcefully to throw the tarp over the commander, kicking him centre mass as the contents of the cart was exposed. Amora, Dane and Scuttler uncurled their bodies, aiming their weapons at the still standing troopers, forcing them to put their hands up. The others moved quickly, retrieving their weapons that lay next to their comrades. “Up against the wall,” the captain ordered. “Be quick about it!” 

The stormtroopers complied, moving to brace their hands against the wall of the tunnel. The rest of the squad quickly moved to their feet, Scuttler marching to free the downed commander, tugging him forcefully to his feet and pushing him to join his men. “I see anyone reach for a communicator, I will cut you all in half.” Schrovec barked, aiming his heavy blaster rifle. It wasn’t a weapon to be on the wrong side of.

“Wingman, this is Renegade.” Captain Reece said into her comm. “We’re just inside. Give us ten minutes before laying down fire. Over.”

 _“This is Wingman. Read you loud and clear, Renegade. Standing by.”_ Commander Glyn replied.

“You’re making a huge mistake.” The stormtrooper commander warned. “We’ll hunt you all down like the dogs you are.”

“Rebel scum.” Another one of them spat, prompting Scuttler to strike him hard on the back of the neck. As the unconscious body slid down the wall, the rest weren’t far behind, each receiving a strike to the back of the head or neck. Amora was quick to start gathering their guns, tossing them out into the snow as Schrovec and Dane slung their rifles over their shoulders, working quickly to pile the unconscious bodies on top of each other on the cart.

“Make sure to tuck them in tight now.” Captain Reece commanded, tugging her hood down. Schrovec whistled as the two busied themselves, securing the tarp over the troopers before moving on, Luke and the squad running in step along the service tunnel. 

They ran through the snaking hallways, Luke gripping his saber like a baton in a relay race as Captain Reece’s unit followed close behind him. The back entrance was light on people as promised, no doubt guards would be sent out in shifts to oversee scheduled deliveries. Coming to an intersection, Luke tumbled across the hall, catching a glimpse of sleek white armour before the voices started shouting. He rounded the corner, activating his lightsaber as the squad moved to cover him, Amora and Dane crossing quickly to provide cover from both sides of the hall.

The loud, rapid blaster shots from Schrovec’s rifle flew past Luke, causing the men to scatter and take cover around the corners of the farther halls. Captain Reece and Kytes were quick to join Luke in his push forward, giving him enough room to swing his saber, firing pop shots when possible to keep the enemy pinned.

“Clear the way!” Luke heard someone cry out from behind. He tilted his body, watching as Scuttler shot past him, tearing up the hall. The Rodain ran past the upcoming intersection, tossing two chrome spheres down each side. He threw himself down quickly onto his back, his comrades shooting over the top of his body to keep him covered, both detonators sending bodies flying out into the open from the force of the explosions. He quickly got to his feet, darting down one of the cleared hallways. “Let’s go people, move!” Captain Reece shouted, Luke and the Rebels quick to follow.

Luke manoeuvred himself to the back of the group, turning to move backwards to deflect any oncoming fire from the rear as Scuttler led them to the generator. Luke heard something roll across the floor before exploding. “Door breached!” Scuttler shouted, diving into the room through the smoking hole where the door once stood.

“Need a few minutes,” Scuttler said over his shoulder, Luke flinching when the specialist dropped his bag to the floor with a loud clatter. “Cover me while I set the charge.”

Dane and Kytes braced the left side of the door, Amora and Captain Reece taking up the right while Schrovec stood in the centre, ready to lay down fire along the facing corridor. Luke watched as Scuttler squatted down, quickly unzipping his bag and taking out the device he was playing with on the ship. He brought it to his lips, kissing it like it were a baby before setting it aside. “You gonna take it to dinner ‘fore you set it off, Storrgo?” Amora glanced over her shoulder, rolling her eyes.

“Jealously don’t suit you.” Scuttler let out a wheezy chuckle. Reaching back into his bag, he quickly piled out a series of wires and an armer. He cracked open the casing of the home brew detonator, using a pair of pliers to shave down the wire, attaching the copper to the internal mechanism.

The doorway lit up with the collective fire power of the squad, keeping the enemy from advancing on their location. “Luke, thermal.” Captain Reece ordered. He moved to the bag quickly, reaching in and tossing a detonator to the captain. “Lick my boots you Imperial _bastards!_ ” She yelled, leaning out to throw the detonator before firing down the facing hall, ducking back behind the frame to shield herself from the explosion. 

“What way we headed, Captain?” Dane yelled over the fire, Kytes tugging the private back by the collar to pull his head from the path of an oncoming shot.

“Right-hand path. We go straight from here to the hanger.” She answered back, her voice raising over the sound of the shooting. There was a loud rumble, the firing stopping for a moment. “Sounds like the boys are starting to join the fun. Scuttler, are you ready or what?”

Luke watched as Scuttler attached the device to a large brick of plastic explosive, inserting the wires before his fingers danced over the timer with not a hint of a tremor. “Baby’s gonna show us her stuff, blow a hole in your heart.” The specialist mused, pressing a button. Luke could feel the sweat on the back of his neck; it was only at a glance but the timer appeared to be ticking down from the lower double digits.

“We gotta move, we gotta move now…” Schrovec all but muttered, chewing his lip.

“We don’t have a clear path.” Captain Reece answered back. The large man moved quickly to his superior, tugging her arm. “Dela, we have to go!”

“Clear me a damn path or stop talking!” The captain shot back. Luke pushed his way quickly past the group, twirling his saber in a flash of green. The squad watched, dazzled for a moment before the gravity of the situation began to sink in. They threw themselves out of the room and down the hall. He could feel a hand on his back, Scuttler blasting down the centre corridor with a single pistol.

“You go, boss!” Scuttler called out, tugging Luke with surprising strength, pushing him down the corridor. “Come on! Take it!” The Rodain cried out, firing from the hip as he reached into the bag hanging off his shoulder, thumbing the timer of a detonator and tossing it in a wide armed swing. “Take it _all_!” He screamed before diving aside. Just as he threw himself, the walls shook as fire billowed out of the doorway, creating a wall of immense flame, cutting them off from the troopers. Luke grabbed the specialist, tugging him to his feet. He didn’t know which was shaking more, Scuttler’s body or the hand that held him.

“The job’s only half done, Scuttler!” Luke shouted over the sound of the blaze into the Rodain’s good ear. “Let’s get to it!”

“You’re the bu-bu-boss, boss!” The specialist answered, both turning to sprint down the hall.

***

The captain and her squad were hunkered down behind some storage containers when Luke and Scuttler caught up. Flight crews were scrambling to board fighters, quickly flying out of the hanger to engage with the Rebels in the air while stormtroopers were laying down fire on the entrance, blocking their advance. He slid in beside them, peering out over the top of one of the containers.

“What’s the plan?” He asked, quickly ducking to avoid a blaster shot, the oncoming laser charring the surface of the crate.

“You see that?” Captain Reece pointed. He could see a stack of fuel cannisters. He remembered the notes in the briefing; the open undercarriage would be the best place to strike, especially with a full payload. “We move those and we can take them all out on the ground.”

“We’ll need a distraction.” Luke mused, scanning the area. “Anyone moving the fuel would be a sitting duck.”

“Which is why we need a target. Commander, come with me?”

Five bombers to scuttle while taking fire from the ground and from the gantry that ran the length of the room. They would need to pull a good deal of focus. All they needed to do was keep all eyes on them. “Stick to me. We’ll give them something to shoot at.”

Captain Reece nodded, waiting for Luke to make the first move. He darted out from behind the containers, Dela shadowing him. He focused on the gantry, the captain firing her rifle from the hip as she withdrew a pistol, extending her arm to take more accurately aimed shots as she laid down scattering fire.

He waited until he could hear the others break cover before turning quickly. Extending his hand, he curled his fingers into a half closed fist and tugged his arm back. The squad paused for a moment as some of the heavy crates flew across the air, smashing into the gantry and back wall. Some knocked the troopers aside while another rattled the walkway beneath their feet, throwing them to the floor below.

“Concentrate your fire!” He could hear one of the troopers shout. “Kill Skywalker!”

He could feel Dela’s back against his as the enemy focused on them. He twirled his saber, batting back blasts as the two of them moved in tandem, Luke deflecting blows sent their way while Captain Reece sprayed an unending volley at anything clad in white.

The others were busy pulling the loading trolley to the bombers. Luke could see Schrovec bend down, gripping the bottom of the trolley, hefting it to upend it, sending the barrels rolling while the others were quick to position them. Just enough for a chain reaction.

“Captain, call it in!” Luke called out over the fire. “Everyone, move! Now!”

The others moved quickly to gather with the two, the squad sprinting for the open hanger doors as fast as they could, blaster shots scorching the floor around their feet as they ran.

“Wingman, this is Renegade! Light up the entrance, give ‘em hell!”

The cold air hit hard as they threw themselves out through the hanger doors, each body colliding with the snow beneath the mouth of the entrance, rolling down the side of the mountain as a barrage of laser fire flew overhead. The explosion shook the mountain, dislodging snow as flames billowed out into the night air. Was the fuel enough to do that or were the bombers fully loaded and if so, were they already planning a bombing run?

“Everyone alive?” Dela called out, shaking herself as she fought to get to her feet. Each of the squad called out, falling about as they pulled themselves to stand. She waded through the snow to where Luke still sat, offering him a hand. Luke gripped tight, the captain pulling him to his feet.

“How’s the commander?” Schrovec called over. “Is he alright?”

“All in one piece, lieutenant, you don’t have to worry.”

“Ya’ll see that!” Amora exclaimed, balancing on Scuttler to help her walk through the snow. “He threw them containers like they weren’t nothin’! Boy, we’re sure lucky to have someone like you on our side, sir.”

“Well, thanks for letting me tag along.” Luke let out a laugh. They were all looking at him with more than an obvious hint of reverence. It had always made him a little uncomfortable but he did appreciate it all the same. “You can tag along anytime you feel like you want to ride rough and dirty with us.” Schrovec smiled, clapping a hand on Luke’s shoulder.

They looked to the landscape below. The ground was lit up with blaster fire, the battle spilling out into the tundra as fighters spun and danced in the air. He wished this war would end soon. For the last month, Luke felt like every step forward was followed by two back, his father still haunting his mind.

“You alright, Commander?” Dela Reece asked him. He only nodded as he gazed out to the battle in front of them. This victory filled him with hope, something he had felt himself slowly losing. It felt good to feel hope again. 


	20. Chapter 20

The Falcon was the only constant in Han Solo’s life up until recently. Growing up rough on Corellia under the Empire’s thumb toughened him and taught him how to survive. He needed that ship but outwitting her previous owner out of the keys was just the cherry on top. While he was almost ashamed to admit it now, he took it because he could and wanted it partly because someone better off had something he didn’t. He and Chewie made their money, that was fine. He’d never have expected to find anything bigger than himself but time’s change and life was stranger than fiction these days.

“There’s still oil on my hands.” He complained, taking a rag from his pocket to wipe his palms off. Chewie yarled at the comment, picking the small rubber ball back up and tossing it against the wall of the hanger, Han quickly moving back into step to slap it back. He could slave over the Falcon for hours but he still needed a break.

He and the Wookiee danced back and forth, the rhythm of the ball’s bouncing increasing with its speed. It had been a while since he’d been able to just enjoy spending some time with his pal, even if Chewie was staying five points ahead.

He wondered what Luke was doing now, the kid out there sticking it to the Empire while he volunteered to ground himself for ship maintenance. It was a good time to give the old girl a tune up but he’d wanted to keep an eye on Leia. She was a strong woman, had a will like iron ever since they’d met, something Han found instantly magnetic. The woman had Han’s mind racing in a way he never thought he’d experience again, his eagerness to get back into the fray for a piece of the action was eclipsed by his desire to stay close to her now. Luke had time to process being blindsided with his paternal ties to the old tyrant, the news was still sinking in for Leia.

Han’s train of thought was derailed unceremoniously when the ball bounced back in a low arc, colliding hard with his knee. Chewie let out a hoot as Han cried out, reaching to support his friend as his knee softened from the blow, almost causing him to stumble. “Okay, I get it, you’re winning! You have to try so hard, ya walking perm?” The Wookiee shoved Han by the shoulders only to quickly remember the previous strike to the leg, catching his friend before he actually did fall.

He shrugged Chewie off, slapping him on the shoulder before gesturing with his thumb. “C’mon, let’s get back to work. You beat me anyway.” Chewie chuffed, moving to retrieve his tool belt. When Leia had gone to see the old man after the procedure, Han went along for support. He wasn’t asked to but felt it was the right thing to do. When he’d seen him lying there, he wished he hadn’t; all tubes and wires, machines beeping and gasping to help him breathe after they’d cracked open his ribs like some seafood special. The twinge of empathy he’d felt scared him.

They were on their way inside when the cargo ship touched down. It was a sleek model, rounded edges with a chrome finish. Whoever owned the ship had the coin to upkeep her, whether it it belonged to the pilot or was outsourced. Chewie folded his arms as Han let out a whistle of approval.

As the ship landed, staff from the hanger came out to meet her. It was clear the craft was expected. The bay doors opened, the ground staff greeted by a small group of Ugnaughts, chatting to each other before a member of the ship’s crew waved his men down. The little aliens started pushing cargo crates down the loading ramp, the ground crew working to push the delivery into the hanger for processing. He had heard through the vine that the Rebels had been working to push the Empire out of Bespin after Cloud City had fallen under Imperial occupation since their visit, could they have beaten them back?

Han marched out to the ship, Chewie on his heels. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the man swagger down the loading ramp.

“Brave of you to show your face around here!” Han shouted, the crew of the ship turning to look at him. He stood with his hands on his hips. “Starting to think you’re too important for us now?”

The charcoal cape hung off his shoulder, a club collared maroon shirt underneath. His pants were fitted, a shiny buckle on his belt. His black hair was carefully styled but it didn’t detract from the stern look on his face. “Watch your tone with me, smuggler,” he said in a smooth, rich voice, pointing a finger at him. “You’re talking to the newly reinstated Baron Administrator of Cloud City.”

He marched forward, staring into Han’s face as the two men sized each other up, all eyes on them. Han waited until he could see his friend’s lip curl at the corner, the threat of a smile. The rumours were true, the Empire was losing more and more ground by the day. Han opened his arms, both men laughing as he felt himself being pulled into a tight embrace.

“I hate to admit it but I’m happy to see you.” Han chuckled. He pulled himself away to look into the face of the man who held him. “Hate nothing,” Lando Calrissian said with a wide grin. “I know you love me really, Han Solo.”

He had to begrudgingly accept that fact.

***

A crate of White Star All Spiced Ale went along well with the conversation. They sat on boxes underneath the Falcon, Lando draping his cape over the top of his makeshift seat to keep his pants clean. They had taken the fight to the Empire, pushing them out of the mining colony, outlasting them in a siege before receiving a rescue from Rogue Squadron. For all that could be said of the foppish charmer, Calrissian wasn’t afraid of a fight. In a battle he would forget about his fashionable boots and clothes. The man was an outlaw who cared greatly about his appearance but it did no favours to underestimate him, a smuggler dressed in silk and crushed velvet still knew all the dirtiest tricks. 

“So you’re a big city official again?” Han asked, the taste of the hot herbs still in his mouth. “Guess that means we’ve got ourselves a real powerful ally.”

“Tease me all you want,” Lando chuckled, taking another deep swig, “enough about all that. It’s good to see you, pal. Say, how’s our fair princess doing?”

“You know Leia. I’m just keeping an eye on her right now anyway.”

“Grounding yourself for a girl, eh? This must be getting serious. That’s a shame, I did rather like the little lady.” Lando said with a toothy grin. He straightened, throwing his leg up over his knee. His smile slowly faded. “Is it true then? I mean, I’d heard whispers here and there that the old bastard had been captured.”

“Hell, that’s nothin’.” Han scoffed, leaning in. “The old man is _her_ old man.”

Lando choked, spraying spiced ale from his nose. He wiped his moustache off with the back of his hand, coughing and blinking from the burning in his nostrils. “That’s a cruel joke to play on a friend.” 

“Well it’s a good thing I was never much of a comedian then, isn’t it?” Han threw his hands up. “I didn’t believe it either but when you’ve just fought a galactic superpower with a tribe of teddy bears, it makes a guy a little more accepting of the strange.”

“And how’s she taking that?”

“Better than I would.” Han replied, taking another drink. “She gains a brother and a father she didn’t know about and look who one of them turns out to be.”

“Wait, wait…” Lando waved a hand, putting his bottle down. “What do you mean, brother?”

Chewie let out a little yap, tilting his head. He and Han exchanged a look before going on to explain. By the time they were finished bringing him up to speed, Lando was massaging the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger. “Oh sweet mother of mercy…”

Chewie shook his head, letting out a series of groans as he reached to pat Lando’s shoulder. “And you playing nurse with the old geezer!” Han chimed in, swatting at the Wookiee’s arm. “I forgot all about that!”

“You’ve _seen_ him?” Lando whipped his head around to look at Chewie. The Wookiee held the man’s gaze for a moment, looking to Han before replying.

“He was all shapes when he came here, wounded as all hell.”

“Wounded?” Lando asked. “Luke left him in that state?”

“He was already like that.” Han corrected, using the side of his box to chip the cap off another beer. “I went to look in on him with Leia after the boys in med bay got through with him. One of the most deceptive mugs you’ll ever see. Kinda makes it scarier.”

“I’m not surprised. Would be hard to imagine that chrome plated gargoyle in his jammies.” Lando shuddered. “What do Command intend on doing with him? What’s the plan?”

“You’ve just heard the plan, they’ve put him under the knife. The kid’s off busting up a ship factory we had no clue about…a factory he’d told us about.”

“Him? No, oh no,” Lando shook his head, moving to stand. “That bastard’s Empire down to his core. Why would he help us?”

“Buddy, if you saw what I did, I don’t think you’d be asking me that.”

“Solo!” A voice called out, causing Han to look up. There were five of them, walking into the hanger. There was purpose in their stride. “What do you know about our new guests?”

Han stood slowly, letting his bottle slip in his hand until he was gripping the neck, Chewie growling behind him. His body acted on its own. The last time a group of men stepped to him like that he’d left with the scar on his chin to remember the beating. He wouldn’t let it happen again. “Where’s the fire, fellas?”

“Don’t smart mouth us,” one of them said, pointing a finger. “The _Imperial liaison_ they’re talking about in briefings now. We know Vader was brought back here after Endor.”

“Well, all those briefings come from the higher ups, why don’t you ask them?”

“Commander Skywalker brought him back.” One of them said. “I was there. Was pushing him around on a gurney while our boys were struggling for beds aboard Redemption. Damn near broke my arm.”

“Luke? Now that doesn’t sound right to me.” Han shrugged. “The kid wouldn’t go doing something without cause. Why’d he grief you?”

“He shouldn’t be here!” The man all but shrieked, jabbing his finger at Han. The shouting had turned some heads. A couple of the flyboys working on their ships started to gather, dropping their tools and marching towards the group. He could even see Artoo approaching with them. “This guy giving you trouble, General?”

“This doesn’t concern you.” One of the soldiers cut in, waving the pilot off. “Just mind your own.”

“ _He’s_ one of our own.” A round faced woman with choppy hair shot back. “This concerns all of us if you’re marching in here running your jaw.”

“How can you stand by this, General?” Another one of the soldiers asked, almost pained. “You know what they’ve done to us. How can you seriously stand for any of this?”

He set his bottle down, lifting his hands. “The kid brought him back. He helped us. I don’t like it any more than you guys but I trust Luke.”

“You doubting Commander Skywalker now?” Another pilot asked the group of soldiers. “After all he’s done for us?”

“Just cuz it’s Commander Skywalker don’t automatically make it right!” One of the soldiers shouted, pushing himself forward to stand nose to nose with Han. He didn’t move, standing his ground as the man glared angrily into his eyes. He felt more confident having the flyboys at his back but he didn’t want a fight. His eyes fell as the man stepped back slowly, a dark hand resting on the his chest. Lando lightly pushed him back, shaking his head. Han met the soldier’s eyes again before replying. “You have a problem, I get that, but I didn’t bring him here. You have an issue you can take it up with Luke or with Command. I don’t answer to you, pal. I don’t answer to any of you.”

If they had intended more than puffing out their chests, it was thankfully dissuaded by the sound of landing ships. Everyone moved aside to give the fighters room to manoeuvre. Han watched as he saw the kid step out of a ratty old transport. The squad with him were rough looking, Luke standing out like a sore thumb. They watched as the squad marched across the hanger towards the door, laughing and chatting as they did. “Han!” Luke called to him, jogging towards them with two of the squad at his heels.

“How was your little excursion, kid?” Han asked, clapping his hands on Luke’s shoulders.

“It was…different but we got the job done.” He smiled, Han could see a little light hair forming on his face. “Oh, this is Lieutenant Schrovec and Captain Reece.”

He exchanged a handshake with the woman and the man-mountain standing with his young friend. “The Renegades, right? Heard you guys gave the Empire a pounding on Kashyyyk.”

“Can’t take all the credit but we’re happy to share it.” The big guy answered back with a wide smile before looking over Han’s shoulder. “Your people fight like crazy bastards. That’s a compliment by the way.”

Chewie swayed his head, grinning while letting out a bashful hoot. The group were slowly starting to disperse, not willing to fight in front of the Hero of the Rebellion, considering the topic concerned him. Han stepped in close. “Some of these guys aren’t too happy about your old man being here, caused quite a stir just before you arrived.”

Han watched the young man’s face. He expected him to say something profound and brush it off. Instead, he looked to the retreating group of soldiers, Han’s face falling as Luke quickly approached them. He stepped in front to cut them off. “I believe you have something to say to me?”

The men looked between each other, somewhat nervous. One of them stepped forward, managing to speak up. “We…we’re thankful for all you’ve done, Commander,” he began, breathing in before continuing, “but that man shouldn’t be here. You should never have brought him here.”

Luke’s eyes scanned the men carefully. “I believe in the Rebel Alliance. I only did what I thought they would do and I showed mercy. I don’t expect you to understand but I hope that someday you can. That’s all I can ask of you.” He nodded politely, moving to return to the Falcon. Han tensed up, ready to rush over as he saw one of them grab Luke by the arm.

“I shoulda flipped him off that damn gurney, scraped him off my heel like the shit he is.” He snarled. Luke only stood for a moment, his eyes on the hand that gripped his wrist. He stepped in, shouldering the man in the chest to weaken his grip before freeing his hand. He seized the soldier’s wrist in turn, twisting as he pressed his fingers in, the man going down onto his knees as he cried out. 

“I’ll say this once. Only once.” The young Jedi said, his voice surprisingly calm yet full of purpose. “We’ll fight as we have done and we’ll beat the Empire. That man will help us do it. Remember that the next time you think to threaten Anakin Skywalker.” He let the man go, leaving him to clutch his wrist before making his way, the lieutenant and the captain moving to catch up with him. If Luke had intended to keep what he’d said quiet then he could have fooled Han. He could see a crowd of long, pale faces, even those who sided with him.

“Jeez, kid. What the hell was that?” Han asked no one in particular only to have Lando answer. “After that display, I don’t think you can call him a kid anymore.”


	21. Chapter 21

It would be considered unorthodox for a princess to be practising her aim, but then again, Leia wasn’t a typical princess. She’d quickly become accustomed to firearms, the weight in her palm, the vibration when fired.

A good way for the troops to blow off steam, the range sat at the back of one of the barracks. She aimed down range, the grip held in both hands as she fired centre mass into the chest of the holographic trooper in front of her.

She’d always favoured the Defender sporting model. The grip sat comfortably in the hand while the longer barrel provided a more accurate shot. She squinted slightly, taking a hand away from the blaster grip and moving her arm in a quick but purposeful motion. She had never expected to become so accustomed to firearms but that was necessary in war. What she could never quell was that men were not like targets. While still her enemies, she had reconciled herself to the fact that men don’t get up again when shot. It may be her or them but every trigger pull was another man dead, something she would have to live with. 

A few others were there brushing up on their shooting. She didn’t bother them nor they her. She preferred it that way. The office provided a much needed silence but she had to escape every so often. Target practice served as a good distraction.

Leia was thankful to have Han around. With Luke becoming more active in the field, it was nice to have Han there to talk to about the whole situation. He’d stuck by her every moment he wasn’t working on the old rust bucket. When she talked he would listen, intently at that. Sometimes she missed the quips that used to grate on her. She ached for them to break a tension or two. It was hard to focus on the stress of it all with him around, sending her all a flutter. Damn that rascal. Damn that scruffy, handsome rogue. 

“That’s a fetching accessory,” said a voice to the side of her. “It does the job, of course, but it’s not exactly my colour.”

“Good thing the enemy won’t be worrying about colour co-ordination.” Leia remarked, shooting the last of the targets in the head before setting her blaster down. “Besides, if they’re close enough to tell then that’s too close for me. You did always like things colourful though.”

Amilyn Holdo smiled, looking down on her friend from her superior height. “Still, you must admit you do miss the prettier things.”

“I could never have imagined anything like this,” she admitted. “It’s not exactly the environment for pretty dresses and toenail polish. Not that it’s stopped you.”

“I know people joke. It helps me maintain a little bit of normality.” She leaned down, Leia extending her arms to accept Amilyn’s embrace. The two squeezed each other tight before separating. “Something on your mind?”

“Do you need a list?” Leia asked with a dry laugh. “The old man and his friends. All we’ve learned because of them. We’re at such a turning point and I still don’t know what to think.”

“Ah, our _dear_ Mr. Skywalker.” Amilyn sighed, shaking her head. “He’s such a brute. I just can’t work out that man’s game.”

“Maybe he means it?” Leia suggested.

“The man sat at the tip top of the Imperial aristocratic ladder.” She countered. “Men like that enjoy power. We’re giving him a new life on a silver platter.”

“He has helped, the information he’s given us has been invaluable. The least we can do is meet it half way.” She had seen a side to him that she never would have expected. Even the other two, Piett and Veers, seemed eager to put their Imperial days behind them. There may have been a selfish component to their motives but they were still providing a service that would be hard to repay, even considering their histories.

“You’re too trusting, Leia.” Amilyn said with a smile, gesturing to her friend, coaxing her to join as she walked. “It’s incredibly admirable but it should have a limit. Men like that will happily use your softer nature. They can’t be trusted.”

“He was barely a man at all.” Leia said. She had only meant to think it but it had slipped out instead. It seemed to shock Amilyn as much as herself. Since she started, she decided that she might as well continue. “I was afraid of that man. I would never admit it but he terrified me, but now? Look at him. He can barely breathe or see. No arms or legs of his own. I’ve did my digging, seen pictures. He was not like that before joining the Empire.”

“But what does that have to do with all that he’s done?”

“It might very well have everything to do with it.” She mused. “They _kept_ him that way. All their resources, the coffers they could reach into whenever they wanted to throw men and ships at us, yet still have enough for excess. That doesn’t excuse what he did, perhaps it never will but if he wants to try to make up for it then we should let him.”

“We owe him nothing.” Amilyn shook her head, almost apologetically. “Why should we afford him any of the respect he’s been shown thus far?”

Leia didn’t even need to think, not for a second. The reply came as quick and easy as a breath. “Because then we’d be no different from them.” 

The two were pulled for their conversation by the sound of stomping boots. He was a young man, dressed in a med bay uniform, reaching for his knees as he started to pant. “Princess Organa,” he managed through staggered breaths. “I came as quick as I could.”

“Steady man, give yourself time to breathe.” Leia urged, quickly reaching to holster her blaster. “Start again. Slowly. Take your time.”

“Yes, of course.” He took a moment to steady his breathing, moving to straighten. “It’s Skywalker, ma’am. We thought it best to inform you.”

Both women exchanged a nervous glance before Leia responded. “Inform me as to what? Is there some kind of problem?”

“We think it’s best you come and see,” the young man replied, “Dr. Tambra is already with him.”

“Then let’s not waste any time.” Leia said, moving to follow the man, her stride picking up into a quick jog. She wasn’t expecting the worst and she was hoping not to be proven wrong.

***

The merits of meditation were beginning to become evident to Luke. The incredibly calm, centred feeling allowed him to open his mind. He became aware of everything; the blood flowing through his veins, the air in his lungs and even the raw energy of the Force flowing through and around him. When he tried to chase it, the ability evaded him like a prey animal outwitting a clumsy, lumbering predator. Luke wouldn’t seek, only make himself a conduit and allow himself to be filled with that calming aura. 

His brow furrowed when he felt it. It was a hard feeling to describe. It was like when he could feel the pain of his friends on Bespin but somehow this was different, like a precise signal being sent to a specific location. It was like speech but she wasn’t speaking, only that there was something she needed him to know. He stood quickly, slowly emerging from his meditative calm and reached for his boots. It was their father. Leia had called to him. Something wasn’t right.

Ahsoka had taken up residence across the barracks Luke stayed in. The rooms were small but sufficient enough for comfort, even some basic exercise. He wrapped on the door quickly, trying to keep his nervous hand from banging. “Ahsoka, are you there?”

“Come in,” her voice called back, “it’s open.”

Luke pressed a button on the frame, the door sliding open. She was dressed in a tank top and loose fitting pants. Her feet were bare, one of them currently above her head as she balanced on the toes of the other, keeping herself braced to the far wall on the tips of her splayed fingers. She pushed herself back slowly, moving her raised leg with an impressively precise grace to place it on the floor before turning. “Sorry. Just wanted to get in a quick workout. What is it, Luke?”

While he shouldn’t have been surprised, he didn’t expect her to be so toned. Her stomach was flat, her arms lightly creased with muscle. “I just got word from Leia.”

“What did she tell you?” Ahsoka asked, interlacing her fingers and cracking them.

“Nothing. I felt her call to me.” He paused for a moment. “It’s father.”

Ahsoka slowly craned her neck, her eyes meeting Luke’s. They stood in silence for a moment. She nodded, Luke stepping out into the hall and starting to walk, only for her to join him a second after. She locked her door, leaving without changing.

Both of them ran across the base, straight past the receptionist at the main desk and through the corridors of the facility. When they found the room, Leia and Dr. Tambra were standing outside, looking in through an observation window. There were two guards this time, both men gripping their rifles firmly.

“What’s going on?” Luke asked, Leia turning to face him as the doctor continued to look in, stroking her chin. Leia stepped forward, pulling him into a quick embrace. The broke apart slowly, his sister glancing over her shoulder at the Togruta. “Oh. Leia, this is Ahsoka Tano.”

“I go by Fulcrum, ma’am.” Ahsoka answered, stepping forward. Leia offered her hand, Ahsoka shaking it.

“I’m more than familiar with that name. It’s a pleasure, agent.” She said, her eyes scanning the woman, raising an eyebrow when taking notice of her bare feet. “You were on Junjito with Luke, what brings-”

“Your father was my master, ma’am.” She confirmed, Leia’s head whipping around to look at Luke. His eyes met hers, the tension from Ahsoka was obvious, as if she knew she said something she shouldn’t. “I’m sorry. I just have to know if he’s okay.”

“Why don’t you tell them what you told me, doctor?” Leia asked, the group turning to listen. The doctor didn’t take her eyes off the glass.

“One of the nurses reported it to me. He passed by on his rounds to check up on him.” She waved them over. “He hasn’t moved an inch since.”

They approached slowly, what they saw left Luke more confused than concerned. His father was laying in bed, eyes closed and wired up to a series of machines. His arm was extended, pointed upward with his fingers slightly curled in. “He was found like this?”

“Correct,” Dr. Tambra confirmed, “the only problem is, with the medication he’s on, he shouldn’t even be able to move his fingers, much less raise his hand.”

“Everything else appears to be fine,” Leia cut in. “He’s breathing with some assistance but mostly by himself. His vitals are stable.”

“Much more stable than a man in a medical coma.” Dr. Tambra was quick to add.

“May we?” Luke asked, gesturing with his hand. Dr. Tambra looked between the group and her patient. She seemed reluctant but nodded all the same. Leia led them into the room, the only sound that could be heard was the gasp of the respirator that assisted him. He was still, his raised hand completely rigid. She slowly rounded Anakin’s bed, getting a closer look.

“This wouldn’t be anything Jedi related?” Leia asked curiously, her voice a whisper. Luke looked the man over before shaking his head.

“I don’t see how it could be.” He answered, looking back to Ahsoka who reaffirmed his claim with a shrug. “Nothing that I recognize.”

Leia slowly raised her hand, careful as she moved it towards her father’s. She straightened her fingers, pushing them through and closing her hand around his. It fit perfectly. “It’s like he’s…holding someone’s hand.”

It startled Luke a little, causing the others to look at him with a hint of concern. He shook his head. “Sometimes, I don’t really understand how…but Obi-Wan speaks to me. He can somehow channel his spirit to commune with me.”

Both women’s eyes widened. It would have been a shock to anyone, hearing that a man long dead could somehow communicate with the living. “I didn’t think such a thing was possible…” Ahsoka remarked, breathless and astonished.

“Is he…here with us now?” Leia asked.

Luke slowly shook his head. “If he were here we’d be able to see him. I can’t sense anyone.” As he tried to consider the cause of this strange behaviour, Luke’s body straightened as he watched his father’s fingers close, his hand tightening around Leia’s. She tensed up, her head whipping to look down at him. Dr. Tambra rushed into the room, slipping past Ahsoka and Luke as Anakin’s chest heaved, the man inhaling deeply.

The doctor was quick to move to her patient’s side as his eyes slowly started to open.

“Easy does it, Anakin.” Dr. Tambra urged gently. “A little at a time.”

Anakin slowly blinked weary eyes before his gaze scanned the room. His eyes began to slowly well up as he took them all in, tears starting to roll down his cheeks. He gasped softly, as if testing out the capability of his own lungs. He looked to Leia who only covered her mouth with her free hand in response. Luke could feel fingers brush against his. He cleared his throat, reaching back to give Ahsoka’s hand a squeeze. Anakin Skywalker lay still, awakened from a coma he shouldn’t have been able to wake from unaided, gripping his daughter’s hand.


	22. Chapter 22

For the first time in a while now, Luke felt at ease. Over the last few weeks he’d kept himself busy between training and visiting his father after the surgery, rotating with both Leia and Ahoska, all of whom Anakin was more than happy to see. As his father’s slow but steady recovery progressed, the facility staff had laid out a simple routine which gave Anakin a sense of normality after the weeks confined to his bed.

The rehab ward was as sleek as the rest of the facility. The smaller building was outfitted with exercise rooms to aid soldiers in their recovery after injury, as well as a pool for hydrotherapy. The mix of white walls and teal tiled flooring coupled with the soft overhead lights provided a satisfying calm. Lutz stood by the edge of the pool, his arms casually folded as he watched the occupants of the pool slowly lap. He was dressed in a plain shirt and cargo pants. Luke took note of the man’s left leg. It was sleek and simple with no synthetic skin to conceal the limb. Luke would never have known Lutz’s leg was anything but flesh and blood with how he carried himself. It was obvious why the doctor would be working in this wing.

“Okay, doing good.” The doctor praised. “Test that limit but don’t push it.”

Luke walked along the edge of the pool to stand with the doctor. His father pushed himself through the water, Chewie standing behind him, wading waist deep as he supported him under his arms.

“You’re too close.” He could hear Anakin pant. Chewie huffed in response, holding the man slightly more at arm’s reach as he aided his movement.

“How long has he been at this?” Luke asked quietly, the doctor responding with a light shrug. “A while. I don’t want him overdoing it through.” Lutz stepped closer to the pool. “Okay boys, five more minutes then we wrap it up for the day!”

Luke watched his father reach to tap Chewie on the wrist. The Wookiee stepped back a little, helping Anakin recline on his back in the water. He threw himself forward, curling in on himself as he used the momentum to sink. Luke tensed as his eyes followed his father to the bottom of the pool.

“Should he-”

“Be doing that?” Lutz cut in. “I won’t let him do anything he can’t handle. Besides, anything goes down, I’m here to stop it.”

Their eyes met when Anakin looked up from his spot at the bottom of the pool. While Luke couldn’t make him out through the distortion of the ripples, he could sense his father’s confidence. Bubbles slowly began to form as Anakin pushed himself up from the bottom while Chewie dove down quickly to aid him. He threw his head back, gasping hard as he breached the surface.

Seizing Anakin by the arms, Chewie began to guide him to the steps of the pool. Rubbing a hand over his head, Anakin blinked the water from his eyes as Chewie turned him, depositing him gently into a sitting position at the top. The Wookiee chuffed softly as the older man patted him on back, rubbing his fur.

“You two seem to be getting along.” Luke smiled, squatting as his father flopped heavily onto his back.

“Swimmingly.” Anakin panted, his chest heaving. Luke shook his head with a smirk, Chewie snuffling in laughter before shaking himself dry, sending a light spray over both men.

“Time to get you out of here.” Lutz cut in, pushing his chair over, a towel draped over the seat. “You’ve been coming along nicely.”

Chewie reached down, Anakin waving him off as he gripped the sides of the chair, slowly pulling himself up. Luke moved to the back of the chair, taking it from the doctor and steering him towards the exit.

“How are they treating you?” Luke asked, looking down at his father’s new arms as his hands sat in his lap. The prosthetics were a ceramic cream, the components softer and rounder looking at the tips of the fingers and knuckles. Anakin flexed his fingers as if in response to Luke’s question, lifting his hand. “They could have made you a skin for those.”

“In what tone, industrial ash or gargoyle grey?” Anakin turned his head to look back at his son. “Besides, the craftsmanship is excellent. It would be a shame to hide it away.”

“Some patients find a synthetic skin makes them feel more normal after an injury,” Lutz explained, “it’s not a requirement for others. Functionality and comfort are what’s key but you know that, of course.” Luke nodded.

As the three led Anakin back to his room, Lutz said his goodbyes before excusing himself to attend another appointment. When they arrived, Chewie helped Anakin dry while Luke laid out loose robes for him to wear, his first normal outfit. He was in the process of changing before Dr. Tambra appeared in the doorway.

“Gentlemen, I’m happy to have caught you.” She said, stepping into the room. “I wanted to see you before the patient was discharged.”

“Discharged?” Anakin asked. Luke found it difficult to hide his smile.

“We’re taking you today,” he clarified. “We’ve arranged somewhere for you to stay.”

“It’s already been cleared with us. We’ll be calling you back every so often, there are still some things we have to work on but you’re much better than you were when you arrived.” Dr. Tambra said with a soft smile before her face changed to a more stern look. “I don’t want to see you here again for any reason other than that, are we clear?”

He sat silently for a moment, Luke and Chewie looking to each other quizzically. Anakin sat for a moment before pulling himself back, moving up onto his stumps to give himself more height. He reached out slowly, taking the doctor by the hands. She looked confused for a moment as he just watched her before leaning in. The doctor tightened in surprise, Luke’s eyebrows raising as his father pressed his lips lightly to the woman’s cheek, kissing her. “Thank you, Dr. Tambra. Thank you for everything.”

Luke watched as the doctor sucked her bottom lip in, blinking her eyes before moving to slowly embrace her patient. “It was my pleasure, Anakin.”

Chewie let out a little yarl, a smile curling over Luke’s lips as Dr. Tambra exchanged a few more words with her patient before stepping back, allowing Luke space to assist his father.

She waited by the door as the men finished getting ready, Chewie promising to return the chair when they were through with it. As they exited, the sun was high in the sky, a pleasant breeze blowing.

“Now, shall we go and see where you’ll be staying for the foreseeable further?”

“Sure. Let’s see where they’ve decided to stick me.”

Chewie let out a hoot, Luke shaking his head. “You mightn’t believe it but there are those who really do appreciate what you’re doing for us.”

“And the rest are pissed off I’m still breathing,” Anakin replied. He looked back at his son, a grin stretched across his face. “We’ll see who got final say when I see the place.”

***

The exterior was the picture of minimalism. All of the private lodgings for senior officers and members of High Command were like this one, sleek white walls with dark, flat square roofs that were all constructed in a prefabricated fashion.

Chewie moved to open the door with a key card, Luke pushing Anakin in after him as they entered a modest, open living space with a polished wooden floor. On the left was a lounge area, a couch sitting in front of a long window with a recliner next to an ovular coffee table. To the right was the kitchen. A tall, chrome refrigerator sat in line with a row of dark cupboards while matching polished stone topped the work surfaces and island that served as a table. 

“It’s not much,” Luke began, “but it’s got everything you’d need.”

“I can safely say that my housing expectations were not the highest when you first brought me here, son. This is nice.”

They made their way into the bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it was modest yet practical. In the centre of the room sat a single bed, complete with a holoscreen attached to the wall facing, something Luke had noticed his father showing particular interest in. While the furnishings were simple, it was clear they had been catered to his father’s particular needs. The bed was sturdy with adjustable support rails lining both sides. Chewie handed a portable, hand held device to Anakin, prompting him to press a button. The bed began to lower.

Raising his brow, he pressed another. The back began to rise. “Nice.”

“Here.” Luke took the remote off his father, pressing a little button at the top, Anakin watching curiously as a section of the bed slowly began to rise, producing a bedside shelf and cup holder.

“Ah, I’ve went from being unable to leave the bed to not having to.” The older man couldn’t help but laugh.

Luke indicated to a sliding wardrobe, opening to reveal the beginnings of a collection of clothes. The bathroom was adjacent for easy access, a sleek wet room with a walk-in shower and a frosted glass feature activated by the flick of a switch. 

As their tour came to a close, Luke guided his father back into the living room. Anakin pulled himself from the chair and into the recliner, Luke moving to sit on the edge of the couch. “I don’t know if they’re your style but I can pick you up some more clothes when I’m away. If there’s anything you need, just ask and I’ll see what I can manage.”

“You’ve managed more than enough already.” Anakin said. He gestured to the kitchen. “Is there anything in there?”

“I had the place stocked with some basics.” Luke confirmed. His father waved his hand. “Get yourself something to drink.”

Luke got up, moving to the kitchen. He waved Chewie over, pulling him down to whisper. “You can take the chair. I’ll take care of the rest.” Chewie hooted, Luke giving him a wink before busying himself while the Wookiee said his goodbyes. When Luke returned, he handed his father a cup of herbal tea, sitting down with his own.

Anakin slowly sipped his tea, lightly smacking. “Your sister and I have been talking.”

“I’m glad.” Luke said, lightly swirling his cup. “It was a shock to her at first but I think she’s coming around.”

“She took care of me. Like you did, in her own way.” His father looked down into his cup. “I think it’s about time I told you what I’ve told her.”

Luke raised his eyebrows, swallowing a mouthful of tea, allowing his father to continue.

“I was nine years old when I first met your mother. She was stranded on Tatooine with her entourage while fleeing from Naboo. Her ship needed repairs and no one expected royalty to land on such a lawless planet.”

“Wait-” Luke leaned forward, setting his cup on the table, “royalty? Our mother was a princess?”

“Oh, no.” Anakin shook his head before taking another sip. “She was Queen of Naboo.”

The young man’s eyes widened. Reclining slightly, he held up his hands. “Our mother was a queen? You said fleeing, fleeing from what?”

“The Trade Federation had enforced a blockade and invaded the planet. Her ship was damaged in the escape and we were their best chance. I met her and her companion, my first master, when they came to my owner’s shop for parts.”

Luke’s brow crinkled in confusion. “You mean your employer?”

“I mean the Toydarian who owned my mother and I.”

Luke’s face slowly fell. He knew that slavery was common practice in some of the Outer Rim Territories but he’d been naive in his youth, the horrors of such things far from his mind. He took his cup, taking a long drink before looking his father in the eye. “What happened then?”

***

Anakin had lost track of the time as he talked. He spared no detail and left not a single unflattering fact out. He watched his son’s face rise and fall as he told him of his birth aboard a cargo ship, his enslaved childhood, his training as a Jedi. He told him of Obi-Wan, the Clone Wars and even of the fall of the Republic and that ancient order. He hid nothing. He didn’t think he would fear speaking of his part in Order 66 as much as he did now, though he had never thought he would speak of it again. Luke sat silently for a long while before finally speaking. “Leia knows of this?”

“Not in so much detail but yes.” He confirmed, averting his gaze. “To hide anything would be a disservice.”

He watched Luke as the young man deliberated within himself. He sighed softly. “You’ve had a long, sad life, father.”

“A longer one than I’ve deserved. Any sadness is unearned. I was blinded by so much fear that I caused the very thing that terrified me.”

He watched as Luke stood up, bracing himself for what he feared, that he would leave without a word. Instead, he circled the kitchen island and retrieved something from behind. He moved back to Anakin, unwrapping a bundle of fabric. “If I’m honest, I almost completely forgot.”

Anakin’s eyes fell on what his son was holding. They matched the colour and craftsmanship of his new arms, the limbs looking more like actual legs than the skeletal prosthetics he had become so used to. Luke gestured for him to pull up the bottom of his robes before attaching both legs.

“These should be lighter than the previous pair.” He explained. “They may take a little getting used to.”

Anakin held out his hand, Luke reaching to take it and help him pull himself to his feet. He was not as tall as before but he still stood above the younger man. He looked down, his son meeting his gaze.

“You’ve done terrible things,” Luke said, looking into his father’s eyes, “but I know there’s good in you. You’ve proven that to me. We can mourn the regrets of the past but let’s look to the future. All of us.”

Slowly, Luke opened his arms, Anakin leaning down to embrace his son tightly. He could have a second chance, not only for himself but to pay the debt he felt he owed the young man who, unlike many, so strongly believed in him.


	23. Chapter 23

It felt good to get his hands on a ship again when everything started to finally calm down. The X-Wing he was currently working on gave him a chance to practice; even as a child, tinkering had always relaxed him.

Artoo bobbed and whistled as he busied himself. Most of the damage was superficial, mainly scorch marks from quick evasions but there were a few places were blaster fire had punched through. The cooling sleeve on the left laser had been blown out, a few burns along the nose cone just shy of the sensor window and an alarming hole close to where the proton torpedoes were housed.

“You have any idea who was in here last, Artoo?” Luke asked as he dealt with the cooling sleeve. Artoo rocked, spinning his head and warbling. Luke got the sense that Artoo was covering for someone. A high flyer had been in this cockpit, someone who really got that rush out of dancing in the air in the middle of a dogfight. It was irresponsible but Luke found it hard to condemn the pilot’s actions. After all, with some of the things he’d got up to behind the controls, he couldn’t exactly say much.

Luke wiped his hands off with a rag, packing his tools away and setting them aside before exiting. It would take a crew to fix it proper but he did what he could. He crossed the runway to a small building that the pilots and mechanics had taken over. The Junk Rat, as it had been affectionately named, was the base’s only makeshift bar. Alcohol was somewhat of a luxury item, merry making was encouraged but it was also made clear that disciplinary action would be swift for anyone who overdid it. The space was just a small warehouse that had been cleared out, fitted with tables and chairs before having a counter top fitted. The lights overhead were slightly dim, the power provided by a decent sized generator that had been installed to keep from straining the main grid.

It was mainly mechanics in tonight, all sitting around circular tables. Most were chatting over a drink, there was a card game going on in the corner. Luke had a bottle waiting for him, the bartender chipping the cap off on the counter’s edge. He nodded, lifting the bottle by the neck and taking a swig. “Commander, hey!” A voiced called from behind him.

Private Amora was waving him down, Schrovec and Scuttler busy with an arm wrestling match while Kytes and Dane seemed to be debating as to who the winner would be. As he approached, he saw their leader lift her head slowly, a smile curling over her lips. “Well, look who’s here. Pull up a seat, Luke.”

Luke slipped in to seat himself between Amora and Dane.

“Lemme bend your ear there, sir,” Amora began, throwing an arm over Luke’s shoulder. “Sarge and Dane are gettin’ mighty heated and we’re tryin’ to settle somethin’.”

“Guess I could try?”

“Lil’ green or the wampa man.” She said, indicating each man with the neck of her bottle. “You had to put your life on it, who’s gonna win?”

“Wanna pipe down, Amora?” Schrovec huffed. “Trying to concentrate here.”

“You’re not doing quantum mechanics, Kovar.” Kytes said, thumping his bottle. “Stop playing with him and put him to the table!”

“Who says he’s playing, look at his face!” Dane taunted, pointing towards the knotted veins bulging on his furrowed brow. Scuttler let out a teasing chuckle before gasping as his arm was twisted before he managed to wrestle Schrovec’s arm back to its starting position, fighting not to grip the table’s edge.

“Don’t encourage them, either of you.” Dela playfully scolded with a smirk. “Someone’s liable to burst a blood vessel to prove a point.”

“Name one bad thing determination has ever gotten you, Cap.” Schrovec grunted through a half smile, half snarl.

“How about a hernia?”

Both men strained for a moment more before releasing their grip. Kytes and Dane groaned, throwing their hands up now that their respective champion’s had sacrificed a potential win. Schrovec held a hand up, Scuttler mimicking the action only for his opponent to forgo the high five and reach past, wiping the sweat from his palm on the Rodain’s shirt. Both Kytes and Dane were quick to pull Scuttler back into his seat before he could lunge.

“Any word on your father?” Dela asked, readjusting her seat; she seemed oblivious to the small chaos around her.

“He’s recovering well, all things considered.” Luke answered with a smile. “It’ll take some time for him to get used to his new home but I’m glad we were able to make it this far.”

“Old Anakin’s a tough one. Even if I have to begrudgingly admit it, I respect him for it.” Dela said.

“He asked me why there weren’t more of us like you, so it’s safe to say the feeling’s mutual.”

“That so? I’ll remember that the next time I want to twist his arm,” she raised her bottle to her lips, winking, “when he’s better, of course. You take after him, in a way.”

“What, his temper?”

“His sharp tongue apparently,” Dela chuckled, shaking her head. “No. You fight how he carries himself.”

“Never seen a Jedi fight before.” Amora chimed in. “Like you was dancin’.”

“Well it was some dance.” Schrovec grinned, glancing over at the young Jedi. “Those jackboots didn’t know what hit ‘em.” 

“All the more reason to be happy we’ve got someone like that behind us and not staring us down.” Dane added, blowing into his bottle as he polished off his drink. “Think you’ll ride with us again, Commander?”

Luke scratched his chin, the bristling sensation against his fingers reminding him that he still hadn’t shaved. “Well, I do remember hearing an offer.” His answer earned a collective cheer, a couple of the men slapping the table as grins formed on their faces. Luke couldn’t help but grin in turn.

“Where’d you get your laser sword?” Amora asked, shaking her bottle as Scuttler stood to get in another round. “That’s some hardware.”

“All Jedi build their own lightsaber as part of their training. We choose the design to best suit our style.” He assumed that was the reason for the old custom, up until recently he’d had no one to even ask.

“You built that?” The young Twi’lek whistled. “It be oversteppin’ if I asked to see it?”

“Private.” Dela warned, glancing out of the corner of her eye as Scuttler returned with fresh drinks. Luke was aware of the eyes on him. He knew they were curious but she was the one to ask. He reached to his belt, unclipping the saber and holding it up. Amora’s eyes widened, the rest of the crew leaning in as Luke held it out with both hands, presenting it to them.

“Look at that,” Schrovec let out a sigh, “never seen anything like that. You hear stories but you never figure you’ll see the thing up close.”

“All dead.” Scuttler said, reaching out to almost mime touching the hilt, not wanting his fingers to brush it. “Heard stu-stu-stories about the Jedi. All gone now, wiped out…not quite, but still.” When their eyes met, the Rodain seemed to be trying to offer some kind of silent apology. Luke slowly withdrew his saber, clipping it to his belt before they all resumed drinking. The tension was palpable but soon gave way to lighthearted chatter. It was only when the door opened and the two strangers stepped inside did the mood once again subside.

“Don’t look now,” Schrovec muttered, “coupla grey caps just waltzed in.”

Luke hadn’t met them but he could recognize them a mile off. They were in civilian clothing, dark pants and cotton shirts with jackets. They carried themselves with a level of formality that wasn’t suited to their casual dress. They walked up to the bar, one of them knocking on the counter top to get the server’s attention, the other keeping his head down.

“What do you think brought them in here?” Dane asked, his voice hushed.

“From where they’re standin’, I reckon it’s obvious ain’t it?” Amora replied, not bothering to look over.

“You know what I meant.” Dane shot back, leaning into the group a little more. “They’re not exactly popular, even with their new positions.”

“Brave. Or stupid.” Scuttler muttered, glaring at them as he cracked his knuckles. Luke observed the team; reactions ranged from indifferent, to curious, to downright hostile. Maybe they were taking for granted the help the two were now providing but he didn’t expect opinions to change overnight. He got up from his seat, the others watching curiously as he neared the bar.

“I don’t see what the problem is.” He heard one of them say as he approached. He was an upright man with a stern face and a trimmed beard.

“You wouldn’t. Not your type.” The bartender growled. “Think you can carry on as you like.”

“I asked for a drink. This is a bar. It seemed like an appropriate request.”

“It was how you said it.” The bartender shot back.

“Saying ‘I’d like a drink,’ seemed belligerent to you? Then perhaps you need to find yourself another secondary profession.”

“Leave it.” The other man chimed in. He had a lean face, the sides of his head greying, the skin from forehead to chin on his right side was tight and wrinkled. Luke noted the reinforced brace on his shoulder, holding his arm in place.

“Is everything alright?” Luke asked, all three heads shifting quickly to look at him.

“I asked this man for a drink.” The bearded man said. “He seemed to take umbrage with the request.”

“When it’s coming from a pair of Imperial black tongues, sure, I take umbrage with most requests.”

“Ex-Imperial.” Luke corrected, the bearded man’s eyebrow raising. “These men are now part of the Rebel Alliance. They should be treated as such. I’d like another drink, the same for these two, please.”

The bartender tightened for a moment, looking between the three men before his eyes met Luke’s again. He seemed to soften, not by much, but just enough for it to show on his face. “You got it, Commander.” 

The three exchanged looks with each other as their drinks were being fetched. The man with the brace nodded in thanks as he took his bottle, Luke reaching for his after. “I’ve not had the chance to meet you both yet. Luke Skywalker.” He swapped over his bottle to extend his right hand. The lean man in the brace looked at it for a moment before gripping. His grip was strong, deceptively so for such a slender man. “Firmus Piett.”

“One would have to be ignorant to not know who you are.” The other stood firm, his hands clasped in front of him. “I’d know you by sight.”

“That’s quite the praise.” Luke said with a nod, giving the man a small smile.

“It was a fact. Nothing more.”

“Veers,” Piett cut in, “there’s no need for that.”

“General Veers? We’ve met before, indirectly though.”

“Is that right?” Veers raised an eyebrow. His gaze was steely, almost impossible to read.

“On Hoth. You gave us quite a time.”

“You don’t need to tell me that. I do recall who fell that day.”

“Veers, this isn’t the time-”

“So do I.” Luke added, holding out his bottle. “Though we faired a little better on Kashyyyk. You held out well, all the same.” 

The man’s face didn’t change, at least not in an obvious way. Luke swore he could see his eye twitch, ever so slightly. He outstretched his arm fully, Veers’ eyes falling on the bottle. “You’ve not got a lot of friends here. I recommend you try to make some.”

They stood for a moment before Veers reached out, his lip twisting as he took the bottle. Luke glanced over his shoulder to see that they had an audience. All six heads at the table were regarding them carefully. He spoke without looking back. “Come and join us.”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea.” Piett said, rolling his bad shoulder. “We know when we’re not welcome.”

“Then you’re mistaken. You’ve just been welcomed.” Luke replied, walking back towards the table. He didn’t check to see if they were following but he soon heard slow, uncertain footfalls behind him. He offered Piett his seat between Amora and Dela, fetching two more for Veers and himself from a nearby table.

“A little crowded.” Scuttler snarled, eyes fixed on the two newcomers. Dela extended her hand to try and sate the jumpy Rodain.

“You make a couple of new friends there, Luke?” Schrovec asked, drumming his fingers on the table, dismissive of the ex-Imperials.

“This is Firmus and Maximilian. They’ve been providing information on the Empire for us.”

“That so?” Amora asked. “You them fellas?”

“We are them-” Piett began, sipping his drink. He was doing well in hiding his nerves. “That is to say, that would be us.” 

“Can’t imagine you’re too pleased,” Schrovec mused, examining his nails, “us wrecking your stuff after you put the work in. Must put you in a state, huh?”

“We couldn’t begrudge your last mission,” Piett lightly swirled his bottle, “a two pronged assault from the ground and air. Crippling external defences from within. Would have had them divided, confused before you went in for the kill. Attacking the craft’s weak point before take off was quite the idea too.”

“You know quite a lot about it.” Kytes said with an eyebrow raised, curious.

“Of course we would.” Piett replied before taking a drink, only for Veers to cut in. “Whose plan do you think it was in the first place?”

The Renegades all looked to each other. They seemed shocked at the notion of anyone from the Empire planning such a calculated, crippling attack on their own people.

“Why you do that?” Scuttler grunted, leaning forward. “You told us to do all that. Why?”

“Because we were asked to.” Veers answered, folding his arms.

“You’re Empire. What’s your game? Try and get us comfy then drop us in it?” Scuttler stood up, snarling something in his native tongue, Veers rising to meet him.

“Scuttler. Stand.Down.” Dela ordered. Her jaw was squared, her words barely above a whisper but it was enough to stop him in his tracks.

“Our _game_ , as you call it, is to do our job.” Piett corrected, leaning back into his chair before looking up at the Rodain. “We’re good at what we do, believe it or not. No half measures. Even agreeing to help has branded us as traitors. Your enemy is ours now and we can think like they can.” The table sat silently for a moment, watching before both men returned slowly to their seats.

“You gave us quite the edge in that battle.” Dane considered, eyes fixed on Piett. “They were dug in deep.”

“It was the point of the installation. Keep fighters back and send out the bombers to sweep through ground forces. It was a secret location but it was built for the purpose of dealing high casualties to an assaulting army if discovered.”

“You did more than give us an advantage. You saved men that would have otherwise died.” Dela mused, turning in to face Piett. “That weak spot you pointed out spared us a lot of trouble too.”

“So if we were intending to land you in it, then I suppose we must be laying the cover on thick.” Veers quipped, earning a harsh glance from Piett. “We’ve been afforded an opportunity that was more generous than it was unexpected. We’d be foolish not to make good on our end.”

Schrovec leaned forward, pointing a meaty finger at Piett before wagging it. His brow was furrowed, eyes narrow. “What do you drink?”

“What do I drink?”

“Both of you. I don’t drink with Imperials,” he grunted before getting to his feet, smiling broadly, “but I can’t not have a brew with two new Rebels.”

“Say you had to pu-pu-punch a hole in a TX-225 Occupier,” Scuttler began, laying his empty bottle down and spinning it on the table. “What kinda charge would you use?”

“That depends, where are you placing the charge?” Veers asked in return. Scuttler sat silently for a moment before applauding, letting out a raspy cackle. Luke wasn’t sure how to take the response but from the smiles on the other’s faces, it appeared that the specialist had at least softened somewhat.

He sat for a while longer, listening to the others chatter, the two ex-Imperial higher ups engaging in heated debate with their Rebel counterparts over tactics from previous battles. Luke excused himself when his world started to slowly become cloudy, Dela walking him to the door as the others bid him farewell.

“They’ll be alright here, won’t they?”

“No one’s going to forgive them overnight,” Dela replied, “but they’ve shown us they’re not heartless monsters. Nothing will happen to them. I can assure you of that.”

She extended her arm, Luke taking a firm hold of her hand. Before he could shake, Dela pulled him into a tight, surprisingly strong embrace, one that he slowly returned. “When you see him, tell him I hope he’s well.”

They broke apart slowly, both smiling before saluting sharply, Dela returning to the bar and Luke making his way. She was a brave woman, fighting for a bright future that they might hopefully one day obtain. Those three missing gears in the Imperial machine now fought for the same goal. A peace all the galaxy could share.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope everyone has been enjoying this holiday season and are staying safe and well. We never expected this level of engagement with the story and we're both quite honestly blown away. Thank you all for your subscriptions and kudos, thank you for your comments and we're glad you've been enjoying the story thus far (we've been having a blast writing it too). More to come in the new year, stay safe and we'll see you then. x


	24. Chapter 24

_Her dress billowed as she ran, the flowing white silks trailing behind her, turning the heads of all the soldiers and naval men as she darted past. Her orange skin almost glittered under the sheen, partly see-through fabric, her chest heaving as she gasped._

_“Cody!” She cried. “Captain Ramirez!”_

_The naval men who stood at the base of the boarding ramp turned. Their eyes widened at the quickly approaching shapely body. “Miss Y’lele, what are you-”_

_“Captain Ramirez!” She cried once more, stumbling forward on dainty feet. He shot forward to catch her before she fell, holding her in his strong arms. His dark hair was quaffed, clad in naval whites. He looked down at her with shimmering eyes. “What are you doing here, Y’lele?”_

_“You leave and you ask me this?” The beauty shot back, gripping at his powerful arms. “My heart fit to bust and you ask this of me? How am I to know if I will ever see you again?”_

_“The Council has ordered that I go.” Captain Ramirez began, his gloved hands stroking the young beauty’s arms. “I cannot deny them. The enemy is almost upon us and I must do my duty.”_

_“And what of your duty to me? You have always been good to me, the sweet nothings that you spoke to me and all for naught? You swore to stand beside me and now you use this war to hide yourself from that promise?”_

_“I would never. I cannot interfere any longer in your affairs as I have done. Your engagement-”_

_“My engagement be damned!” She shrieked, tears threatening to spill down her heart shaped face. “My parents love Ro’tolo, the one I love is you! It has always been you, Cody!”_

_The captain pulled Y’lele into a tight embrace, causing her to gasp as she fought to cling to him in turn. He pressed his lips to her cheek, kissing it softly. “I thought all this time I was too late.” He said, rubbing the girl’s back. “It’s clear to me now that I hold your heart to ransom as much as you hold mine.” They broke apart slowly, the captain tenderly taking her hands. Her tears flowed freely now. He smiled softly at her as he pulled a glove from his hand, reaching to wipe her tears away, skin to skin._

_“I thought I’d lost you at the Ulmedian charge. Please, I could not bear it. I would die if I lost you for true.”_

_“Captain Ramirez!” Another man’s voice called as the men who fought to pull themselves away from the scene made their way up the ramp. “We must go. We’re expected to set out with the flotilla.”_

_“I’ll be right there!” He called back, not turning from his love. He leaned in close. “The grip of Death herself couldn’t keep me from the one I loved.”_

_He broke away, leaving the glove in her hand as he walked up the boarding ramp with a strong yet graceful stride. Y’lele fell to her knees, some of the nearby soldiers rushing to aid her to her feet. “Cody! Cody, I love you!”_

_“I’ll fight, Y’lele! Fight to make the galaxy a safe and peaceful place!” He turned slowly at the top of the ramp, tears in his eyes. “A better galaxy for us to live in. Together, my love.”_

The gradual heightening of the background music signalled the programme was nearing its apparent conclusion. The room soon fell silent as Anakin pointed the remote, turning off the viewing screen. He had to admit that as mind numbingly sentimental and badly written the dialogue was, he was curious to see where things went. It wasn’t the idea of a love story during war that steadily pulled at his suspension of disbelief, more that the male lead looked like a model who had been dressed to look like an officer. All chest and cheekbones, no real believable authority. He’d also noted the strange fascination the director seemed to have with the young leading lady’s bust. 

Pulling himself from his chair, he stretched before taking his cup into the kitchen, refilling. When Luke said he had stocked him with the essentials, the boy had slightly undersold himself. From blue milk to frozen meats, Luke had gathered enough provisions to last him quite a while. He had also provided Anakin with a chance to do something he hadn’t done in a long time; cook. He could still feel the slight heat in his throat from a few nights prior when he’d seriously underestimated the strength of a spice he’d been experimenting with. He noted the taste at least, just a matter of cutting back the quantity.

Taking a sip of milk, he glanced around the kitchen. As humble and unassuming as it was, it was his. As he rinsed his cup in the sink, his eyes landed on a plate and glass nestled in the drying rack. They were clean. As he recalled, he had put them there after his dinner the previous night with the intention of cleaning them the next morning with any others. Must have just slipped his mind.

Going from the numerous responsibilities and duties he once held to nothing, he found at times he had become a little absent-minded, his thoughts easily drifting. He felt he should be busier, but busy with what? Piett and Veers were currently compiling information that didn’t require his assistance in any prolonged capacity. He just had to wait until they came back to him or for Command to issue a request. Until then, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. 

He pulled off his robes as he headed into the ensuite bathroom. Running the water until steam began to fill the room, he stood under the hot spray. Rubbing his hands over his head, he breathed in deep, letting out a sigh as the heat seeped into his muscles. Hot water had always helped him relax as well as temporarily relieve the chronic pains of his body, something that still ailed him. He was getting better, that was true, but it would still take time to fully mend; to be as close to fully mended as his body could be.

Emerging from the shower, he felt a wave of fatigue rush over him. As he drew the curtains, a yawn escaped him. Going to his bed, he pulled back the covers, easing in. As the soft blankets enveloped him and his head sank into the pillows, his eyes slowly began to close. Before long, the waking world gave way to an abyss of silent darkness.

He tossed lightly in the bed, trying to get himself into a position that provided the most comfort. Rolling onto his side, he slid his arm under the pillow, rubbing his face into it as he held it tighter to his head before shifting onto his back, pulling the covers further over himself. A soft hum echoed through the room, slowly pulling him from his slumber. The room was in darkness. Sleepily scanning the room, his attention was caught, much to his confusion, by what appeared to be two floating white lights by the window. As his vision adjusted, they appeared to not only move but _narrow._

A little more alert, he pulled himself up slightly, his grip on the blankets instinctively tightening as the lights came closer. He could soon make out the shape as a tall droid moved to stand at the foot of his bed. It stood motionless, optics focused on him. Anakin looked to the lamp at the side of his bed. It looked sturdy but judging from the droid’s alloy, it would be nowhere near heavy enough.

“Go back to sleep,” a rather calming male voice said, “you’re having a dream.”

Anakin lay, staring. The droid stood for a moment, staring back at him, perhaps trying to gauge if its words were satisfactory. It looked to the object in its hand then back at the curtains before seemingly deciding to abandon its task, walking past the bed and out the door.

He watched it go before quickly getting out of bed, peeking around the door to see it disappear into a cupboard, closing the door behind it. Slowly shutting his own door, he shook his head, blinking, fighting the urge to inquire aloud as to what just happened. He climbed back into bed, resettling himself. “It can wait until morning.”

***

Luke reached into his pocket to fish out the key card as he walked up the path to the house. As he readied to scan the card, something caught his eye. A pair of sandals sat on the step beside the door; women’s sandals. He found the notion of someone else visiting a little strange, wondering who it could possibly be. As far as he was aware, he didn’t know anyone who wore that style of footwear. He scanned his card, the door unlocking. As soon as the door started to open, he could hear voices.

Despite the obvious clue, Luke was still somewhat surprised to see his father with female company. Anakin was sitting at the island, focused on a bowl of porridge. Opposite him sat a young, green skinned Twi’lek. She was smiling and chatting with a glass of juice clasped in her hands. His father didn’t appear to mind as he continued to scoop at the bowl.

“Good morning, father.” It took him a moment to recognize her without her technician’s uniform. “Miss Anoki?”

“Hello, Commander!” The young woman replied, uncrossing her legs before getting to her feet. Anakin nodded, grunting out a greeting, his mouth full. The Twi’lek sat her glass down, offering a hand. “It’s so nice to properly meet you.”

“Luke will do. We met at the briefing for the Junjito raid, am I remembering that right?”

“Uh huh, that’s me!” She replied in a light, chipper voice. “Noi is fine. Miss Anoki is awfully formal and we’re not on duty after all.”

“What brings you here?” Luke asked, glancing to his father. The blank look that was returned made it evident they were both as confused.

“I’d heard through the grapevine that Anakin was just settling in after his procedure. Dela and I got talking and I thought I’d check in.”

“Captain Reece sent you?” Anakin’s head picked up, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, not _sent_.” She corrected. “It was brought up in conversation one night, we room together. She seemed to want to know how you were doing and I know that a visit from a friendly face always picks me up!”

“That’s…remarkably kind of you.” Anakin said, looking to his son, gesturing his head to the woman and shrugging. He was quick to straighten himself when she turned to reach for her juice.

“Aw, think nothing of it, Mr. Skywalker.” She smiled, taking another drink.

“Oh, Anakin, if you please.” He urged. “I’d prefer it, in fact.”

“He’s just adorable, isn’t he?” Noi chuckled, tipping her head back to drain her cup.

“It was nice of you to check in.” Luke said with a smile, glancing over her shoulder at his father who seemed to be mouthing an inquiry as to who the woman was. “We haven’t been taking you away from anything important, have we?”

“Oh, don’t say that!” Noi’s eyes widened. “We’re just compiling whatever information we can right now. Firmus and Mr. Veers have been a godsend, I’ll say that much.”

“They’re definitely an asset. It’s good to see that they’re actually willing to work with us as much as they have. I know things could have got hairy out there without their intel.”

“Who would have thought, huh?” She smiled, taking her jacket from behind her chair. “Well, I’m going to go. I don’t want to get in your way, boys.” Pulling it on, she rounded the island. “You look after yourself, now.” She said, wrapping her arm around his neck, lightly pecking his cheek. Luke was surprised to see his father return the gesture. Moving to Luke, she did the same. As they embraced, Luke noticed the droid come into view. As they broke apart, the metallic body moved to the door to open it for her.

“Oh, what a gentleman!” She chirped, reaching to take his hand as she stepped carefully into her sandals, the droid helping her keep balanced. “Bye, Atticus! It was nice meeting you, boys!” Luke watched the droid wave before shutting the door behind her. He walked past Luke to the island, taking Noi’s glass and rounding to wash it in the sink. When Luke’s eyes fell on his father, the older man was staring blankly at him. He gestured with his spoon.

“Is there something you’d like to explain to me, son?”

He didn’t know where to start. He should have known by now. Luke gathered himself, gesturing to the droid. “This is Atticus.”

“Oh, that’s _Atticus_ _!_ ” His father exclaimed suddenly. “I was afraid I’d mixed him up for someone else. Would you care to tell me why I awoke to find him skulking about my room, trying to vacuum my curtains in the dead of night?”

“Skulking denotes a furtive action,” Atticus chimed in, “if you knew what I was doing then it can’t be skulking.” 

Luke moved to his father quickly, gripping his wrist as he watched him turn slowly towards the droid, moving to get out of his seat. “Atticus is here to help. I thought you could use some assistance but I didn’t want you to think I was taking away your independence.”

“I was asked to keep out of your way to begin with, let you find your feet.”

“That translates into hiding in a cupboard?” Anakin’s voice lifted slightly.

“Hiding in a-” Luke’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t ask you to…I just said it was to be a surprise.”

The droid slowly turned, looking at the two men for a moment before reaching out, taking Anakin’s empty bowl and spoon. “I thought my presence might be disruptive during the first day or two. Besides, I would say it was still quite surprising.”

Luke watched his father scrutinise the droid, taking in his overall appearance. It was evident from first glance he wasn’t a protocol model; he was lanky, reinforced with a slate-coloured casing.

“Where did you get him?” Anakin asked, looking curiously at his son.

“He was found when the base was being built.” Luke replied. “He must have been brought over in a transport. One of our guys had been salvaging through a scrap pile, looking for anything we could use for repairs and there he was. He was a little dirty but seemed to be functional. The techs reactivated him but they didn’t know what to do with him so he mostly did odd jobs around the place before I asked for him.”

“What model is he? His design’s a little unorthodox.”

“A2 infantry support.” Luke confirmed. “Apparently it was decided it would be too costly to mass produce units, so he’s the only one.”

“And Atticus?” Anakin asked, glancing back over at the droid.

“My serial number is A2-KUS.” Atticus chimed in, packing away what he had just finished drying. “The phonetically formed name saves a little fuss.”

“Well, that will be much easier to work with.” Anakin agreed. Atticus turned to look at him for a moment before nodding lightly, soon departing to busy himself with something else. “He seems…charming.”

“I’m sorry by the way, I didn’t know he’d do that.” Luke scratched the back of his neck, offering an apologetic smile.

“At least I know he’s here. We’ll get used to each other.” Anakin stood, moving to his son before placing a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Thank you, son.”

“Is there anything else you need?” Luke asked.

His father regarded him a moment, thinking before replying. “There might be something.”

“Of course, what is it?” Luke urged.

“When we were fortifying the navy, most of the best ships came from the yards and factories on Corellia. There was an initiative to convert factories to increase construction output. There was one building that wasn’t repurposed, a brewery. Apparently, the men had taken to the beer that was produced there. The garrisoned forces said they wouldn’t work if the higher ups took their beer away. When they threatened the men with disciplinary action, they in turn threatened to riot.”

“I’ve never heard this story.” Luke said. He had no idea where his father was going with this, but he was intrigued.

“Of course not. Couldn’t have people thinking the men couldn’t be controlled. It was agreed that we would let the men have their beer. Just if you’re able, I’d like to try the beer that nearly turned the Empire’s own men against the upper echelon.”

He didn’t think he would ever hear a story like that. It made the enemy feel more like people to him, though he felt bad to admit that it was hard to consider them as such at times in the past. He thought for a moment, scratching his chin. “What’s it called?”

“White Star, I believe.”

He was sure he’d had some himself, that very brand having come in on a provision drop that Lando had brought. It would take him to have a few words, talk to the right people in the right departments. Luke grinned. “I’ll see what I can do.”


	25. Chapter 25

The Falcon came up slowly on the small grey moon, Chewie fiddling with the console to see if he could detect any sort of port they could touch down on. Han stood behind the captain’s chair, slipping a spare blaster into a concealed holster at the back of his belt. 

“Don’t bother with that, pal.” He said, reaching for his jacket. “We’re just gonna have to land as close to the meeting point as possible.”

Chewie ran a hand through his hair, pulling up the co-ordinates again before taking the ship slowly down to breech the atmosphere. Han took a small drive out of his pocket, moving to the holotable to insert it. A few Rebel soldiers sat around the communal area, getting themselves ready for trouble when they touched down.

He sat down as he replayed the message again, the small projection of Lando appearing on the table. _“We’re going to have to tread carefully with this one. The transport that was highjacked contained a shipment of medical supplies. The ship and its crew are currently in the hands of the Razer_ _Runners_ _. We managed to parley with_ _them but_ _were_ _told they’d kill the crew and keep the goods if we_ _tried_ _anything._ _D_ _oubt they have_ _any_ _idea what they’ve actually stolen but they’ll know it’ll fetch a pretty p_ _rice_ _on the black market if they bothe_ _r_ _to look.”_ He watched as the hologram scratched its chin, starting to pace. _“The credit_ _chip you’ve been given contains the price we’_ _ve_ _agreed upon._ _I’m sorry for this, pal. I know_ _I’m putting you at great risk_ _._ _The shipment is our priority, but I implore you, keep my people safe.”_

Han lightly thumbed the chip in his pocket, the payment coming directly out of the Baron Administrator’s own pocket. When he’d contacted the base for assistance, Lando had sounded like he was barely keeping his temper under wraps. Had could tell that the idea of his people being in danger was eating at him. He didn’t want to let his friend down.

“How we doin’ there, Chewie?” He called, the Wookiee yarling back at him. “Get us as close as you can but keep some distance, we don’t want them too near the ship.”

“You dealt with these guys before, General?” One of the men asked, a rifle hanging off his shoulder as he paced.

“Not personally, no. Worked with a few fellas who did dealings with ‘em. They’re not as big as some of the other outfits but they’re not to be underestimated either.”

“There anything we should expect?” Another one of them asked, playing with the configuration of her heavy pistol. “These guys pros or are we dealing with a bunch of Spice heads?”

“Just keep your distance with all of them.” He urged. “These guys love their blades. No matter how stable they seem, they’re more than likely itchin’ to gut you.”

The men got themselves ready, throwing on coats to conceal their weapons as Chewie took them down to land on a rocky hill overlooking the meeting place. “I’ll need a couple of guys just so they know we mean business. Who wants to roll out with me?”

All the soldiers stood up, falling into line. Han selected three, putting a hand up as Chewie made his way out to join. “Not you, pal. I need someone who can handle this bird in case things get hairy out there. You’re gonna sit this one out.”

Chewie looked as though he were about to protest before considering for a moment. He nodded, slinging his bowcaster over his shoulder regardless. “You’re in charge until I get back. Keep the engine running for me, big guy.”

***

The settlement at the foot of the hill was old and ramshackle. Apparently it used to be a company town before business dried up, leaving the place abandoned when the settlers were forced to leave to find work elsewhere.

Han could see the pirates’ ship docked by a large industrial building at the end of the street. They made their way towards the meeting place; Pak, Remooni and Chavez walking in formation behind Han, hard gravelly sand crunching beneath their boots.

“You see anyone?” Pak asked, trying to inconspicuously look around for anyone who could get the drop on them. “We’re all out in the open here.”

“Right there.” Remooni pointed. Han could see him too; a man on one of the porches of the old houses. He stepped back, moving towards the larger building. “Spotter.”

“I don’t like this. Not one bit.”

“Cool it, boys.” Chavez urged, letting her hands relax by her sides as she walked. “What you thinking, General?”

“I’m thinking if they wanted to kill us, they would have popped out and tried.” He assured. He could hardly describe a group like this as on the up and up but Han was thankful they’d decided not to try and gun them down on sight.

They approached, the grimy sign above the warehouse doors only now legible when they were standing directly under it. Han reached forward, banging. They waited for a moment before the smaller employee entrance door was pushed open. The man who stepped out was skinny with a shaven head. He wore a ratty, mustard coloured boiler suit with a dirty, dented chest plate. He had a heavy pistol holstered. Han’s eyes went from the pirate’s gun to the sheath on his belt, swallowing a little when trying to imagine the naked blade. “What you what? You got biz or somethin’?”

“I was told this is where the meeting was. Here to pick up something you’ve been minding for a friend.” Han said, holding his hands up, showing they were empty. The door guard looked him up and down before a grin spread across his face. He leaned back in. “We got a trailblazer here, bros. Big man Solo!” He called out before turning to the group again. “Why all the peeps, you expecting a party?”

“We just didn’t want your boys having to do all the work when all’s said and done.” Chavez said. “We can carry anything that needs carrying, you guys can just be on your way.”

“Yeh, yeh. Using the think box good, chicky bird.” The pirate nodded before stepping aside to give them room to enter. The place was full of dusty, broken-down machinery that hadn’t seen use in years. Lando’s crew were all lined up, kneeling on the floor. Han could count about ten pirates, all watching them. Most had their weapons holstered but one or two of them stood with rifles gripped tight, ready for any excuse.

“This place used to be a cannery.” One of the pirates called out. He sat on top of the stolen storage crate, cleaning under his nails with a combat knife. He was a robust man, his chin heavily tattooed. Over the same boiler suit as the others wore, he had on the chest plate and shoulder pad of an Imperial Sandtrooper. “The local delicacy on this nameless shit hole is gravel eel. They jelly ‘em or let ‘em rot and can ‘em up, well, not here anymore.”

“You who I’m supposed to talk to?” Han asked, crossing his arms. His eyes fell to the hostages, a few of them visibly bruised. “Was any of that needed?”

“Still huff-puffin’, ain’t they?” One of the others stepped in. This one was bone thin and topless, his sleeves tied around his waist to show a body that was more ink than skin. “We don’t off an’ make man fillet so you don’t gotta tilt. Cool the jets, soldier boy, less you wanna get sick nasty?”

“No need for that, Wing-Ding. Be cool.” Their leader said, sheathing his knife as he stood up, stepping towards Han.

“Ice water veins, Tuck. I don’t tilt.” Wing-Ding smirked, slowly circling the group. Han couldn’t tell if they were trying to goad them or if this was just how these guys were. He didn’t like it either way.

“It’s good of you to come all this way, General Solo. I hear you’re plenty busy these days. General, hot damn.”

“Nice of you to say.” Han replied flatly. “I don’t want to waste any of your time. I have your payment here.”

“Much obliged. Mr. Calrissian was very accommodating.” Tuck grinned from ear to ear. “It’s nice to see he’s so willing to spread the wealth around. Don’t matter where you go, General, when you’re getting up everyone below you remembers where you came from even if you forget.”

“Chick-chick-chicky,” Wing-Ding chirped as he moved forward. Han glanced over his shoulder to see Pak and Remooni move to block his advance. “Ain’t you yum-yum, honey drop? What I call you, sweet sticky?”

“You don’t call me anything.” Chavez pushed past the two men in front of her, stepping to Wing-Ding while still keeping a sensible distance. All her rebuke did was make the pirate giggle like a bashful schoolboy before blowing her a little kiss.

“Let’s see the payment, General.” Tuck urged, holding out a hand and clicking his fingers. Han slowly opened his coat, slowly reaching into his pocket to retrieve the credit chip.

“Ten thousand, as per the request.” Han shook the chip lightly before pocketing it again. “For the shipment and the crew, that was the deal.”

Tuck smiled slowly, the rest of his men starting to giggle. Han could feel sweat start to form on the back of his neck as the men laughed. Tuck reached into his pocket and produced a small glowing object. “You’re a good man, General. Unfortunately for you, I’m not.”

He heard it then, the sound of a ship touching down outside. Two ships. They started to laugh in earnest then, the Rebels looking to each other. That’s when they heard the voice through a loudspeaker. _“Tucker Aldos! Come out where we can see you!”_

“Empire? What the hell is this?” Pak asked, balling up a fist. Han looked to the pirate leader for answers. He just sauntered past them as his men began to open the front shutter with a chain pully. Han watched as the stormtroopers outside were unveiled to him. Two drop ships with a well-equipped, sizable force standing with their guns at the ready.

“Ten thousand is good,” Tucker mockingly mused, “but I figured I could make more. The shipment’ll make for some good pocket change.”

“Yo, Emp-meat!” Wing-Ding shouted as he paced the now open door. “You better give us what’s owed!”

The stormtroopers advanced slowly, Han’s eyes darting frantically around the room. They were trapped. Tucker turned to face him, smiling smugly. “No hard feelings, General. You had a good run.”

 _“Open fire!”_ The trooper captain cried, Tucker’s smile fading as they opened fire on the old cannery. Wing-Ding was torn to pieces, the other pirates diving into a cover as soon as the body hit the floor. “Take cover!” Han called to his men, the three rushing to help Lando’s crew out of the firing zone before pulling out their weapons.

The pirates had taken cover by the entrance, peering out and returning fire at their now shared enemy. Han darted out of the way of the oncoming fire, sliding to get himself behind a nearby pillar. He withdrew his concealed blaster before firing, shooting one of the heavy gunners in the back of the head. The other turned quickly, unable to fire back before Han unloaded both blasters into his chest.

“Push ‘em out!” He ordered. Chavez was the first to run forward, firing wildly to scatter the group. The pirates scrambled, dispersing quickly, a few of them shooting back as they rushed to find cover.

Remooni and Pak pushed forward, providing covering fire as she kicked the fallen men’s rifles back across the floor with her heel before tumbling over the storage crate. Huddling behind it, she fired blindly, the protective casing absorbing each returned shot.

Han moved quickly between pillars, dancing around oncoming fire, hunkering down with the transport crew. He looked to the nearest member of the crew. He was shaking, his face raised with fresh bruises. “I’m gonna get you folks out of here,” he shouted over the shooting, “but I’ll need your help!”

He offered his pistol to the younger man, who held Han’s gaze for a moment before snatching the grip. He stood quickly, blaster gripped in both hands as he darted forward, two more of the crew members at his heels as Han fired to keep the enemy pinned. The bruised young man took up cover next to Chavez while the other two sprinted to snatch up the heavy rifles, quickly opening fire on the pirates. Han watched some of them fall, the others being forced outside, putting their ship to their backs to keep them protected from the Imperials.

“Stick behind me, I’ll keep you safe.” Han urged the remaining two hostages. They moved quickly in a crouch, getting behind the crate. “We need to get moving. How do we shift this thing?”

“There’s a built-in mechanism.” The young man said, popping up to fire a few shots. “We can move it if you can get us out of here.”

“Where do we go from here, General?” Pak asked. Han looked around, considering for a moment before calling out; “looks like your deal went off without a hitch, Tucker!”

“Kiss my ass, Solo, you long legged little shit!” The pirate shouted back. He’d never been so glad to hear a scumbag’s voice.

“I still have that chip. You help us get out of here, it’s yours!”

“There’s no way I can trust you at your word!”

“Yea, well that’s pot calling kettle, isn’t it?” Han barked back hard, unable to supress his anger at the bare faced hypocrisy. “My word is all you’re gonna get, so make your choice, jackass!”

Everything went quiet for a moment. Han white knuckled his blaster, everyone frozen and ready for the worst. The moment lingered before he heard that gruff voice shout. “You heard the man, boys. Mince these black ‘n white bastards!”

As the pirates ran out into the street, taking cover behind nearby buildings, Tucker stormed into the warehouse. The young crew member pressed a few buttons on a small console on the side of the crate. As he worked, two handles shot up on the shortest edges before the box itself slowly started to lift a few inches off the ground. They spun the crate, pushing it towards the door as others moved in front, Han and Tucker following up the rear.

“Keep them from following!” Tucker barked as he spun on his heels, firing from the hip as he let his rifle bounce in his grip. The others followed suit; Chavez, Pak and Remooni standing their ground to keep the stormtroopers from regrouping after some of their comrades dropped face down in the sand. 

Han could see the Falcon in the distance just as he managed to pull out his comlink. “Chewie, bring her in closer! We need to get out of here fast!”

The group ran as fast as they were able, Han’s unit picking up the rear as the Falcon came up on them. The boarding ramp was already down, the men Han left behind holding on as the ship lowered. “What happened out there?”

“I’ll explain later, get this on board.” Han ordered. The other Rebels moved quickly to secure the box, pulling it up the ramp. Just as he turned to look back at the ongoing fighting, he felt a hand roughly yank him back by the scruff of the neck.

“General!” Chavez cried out. He could feel cold steel at his throat as his allies all levelled their weapons his way. Tucker must have had his blade out before his rifle had even hit the ground.

“You’re all free to go.” He said, moving a hand up quickly to pull Han’s head back by the hair. “He stays here.”

“On a cold day in hell, he does!” Pak barked, gripping his pistol hard.

“Drop him, or we drop you.” Remooni coolly added. “Just walk away.”

“Not without a bargaining chip, I ain’t.” Tucker spat. The blade was long; Han could see the tip when he glanced down to his left. He fought the urge to swallow for fear that he might slice his adam’s apple. “You got what you wanted. Not letting those Imperial mutts take me in.”

“If he dies so do you.” Chavez glowered, her finger hovering over her trigger. “I will lung shot you and leave you to heave, just give me an excuse.”

“Not when I have this.” Tucker laughed, pushing the blade against Han’s neck. “You take your men and mosey on out of here, chicky, or I’ll cut his fucking head off.”

“Just shoot, Chavez.” Han shrugged, trying his best to appear calm. “Take the shot.” He felt his head being pulled back harder, the blade shifting slightly, ripping the skin.

“General…”

“Don’t you dare, girlie.” Tucker growled. “Don’t play with me.”

“If we’re quick I might live, this asshole’ll have no chance.” Get him startled and try to get that knife away from his throat, that’s all he could do. This guy was all scrote and no brains, he wasn’t bluffing. “Take the shot.”

“General, I can’t-”

“Chavez, that’s an order!” Han barked, feeling the wet trickle down his neck as Tucker roared like an animal behind him.

“I don’t have a clean shot!” Chavez shouted back, almost pleadingly. Han shifted his feet, ready to try and twist out of Tucker’s grip when an unaccounted variable changed things. The young man with the battered face took a step forward, lowering the pistol that Han gave him to fire right between his spread legs. He felt the grip on his hair loosen as Tucker let out an ear-piercing howl. Han swiftly moved his hand as Tucker’s grip on him became lax. He seized the man’s wrist and twisted before elbowing him hard in the chest, sending both the blade and it’s wielder to the dirt.

Chavez was the first forward, kicking Tucker’s rifle out of his reach as Remooni and Pak hastily pulled Han away. He turned to see the pirate lying prone, the leg of his jumpsuit scorched, a hole burned through to reveal a smoking, mangled kneecap.

“General, are you alright?” Pak asked. Han reached to touch his neck, feeling the trickle of blood as he looked down at Tucker. He wiped his fingers off as he moved to the ship. “Everyone on board.”

“I’ll gut you, Solo! I’ll gut you like a fish!” Tucker shouted after them as the made their way up the ramp, trying to pull himself towards his gun. “I’m a dead man if you leave me here!”

Han just watched as the ramp raised, listening to Tucker’s primal screams muffle before the ship took off. He shrugged off his jacket, throwing it down on the holotable. His eyes fell on Chavez, the woman’s face slick with sweat. “Chavez, c’mere.”

She moved forward quickly, saluting. “I’m sorry, General. I disobeyed a direct order, it won’t-”

He reached to pull her down by the lapel before placing his hands on her shoulders squeezing them firmly. “No. I’m sorry. I know that was difficult. I won’t ever put you in a position like that again if I can help it.”

The woman nodded, a small smile forming. Han moved her gently, urging her to sit at the table. He made his way over to the transport crew, the two men he’d left behind looking them over, checking their wounds. “We’re going to get in touch with Baron Administrator Calrissian as soon as we touch down. In the meantime, we’ll get you all patched up.” He scanned the battered but relieved group before his eyes fell on the young man still holding his blaster. He reached out. “I can take that now. What’s your name, son?”

“Arno,” the young man said, slowly handing the pistol over, “my name’s Arno.”

“You’re a good shot, Arno. I hope you never need to prove it again.” Han said, clapping him on the arm. He tossed the blaster onto his jacket before going into the cockpit, Chewie yarling without even turning around.

“We’re all good. A couple of ‘em are real banged up but everyone’s in one piece.” He threw himself down into his chair. Chewie turned slowly, letting out a questioning whimper before reaching for Han’s neck.

“Oh this? One of ‘em tried to give me a shave, real nice fellas.” Han joked, playfully batting at his friend’s hand. “I’m fine, big guy. Go check if everyone else is, okay?”

Chewie reluctantly stood, looking back over his shoulder as he stepped out of the cockpit. “And don’t tell Leia about this!” Han called out, earning a yip in return. “She’d kill me, pal. Not you.”

Han touched his neck again, examining his red fingertips as if trying to answer a riddle. It’s not that he wasn’t afraid when he was in these kinds of situations in the past, but it was different now. All he could see was her face when that nutcase had that cutter to his neck. He gripped the controls as his heart started to hammer. That smuggler’s rush made him feel alive but now that he had something to lose, he wasn’t going to tiptoe along that line ever again. Not if he could help it. “Everyone get ready, we’re about to jump.” He shouted over his shoulder.

Han Solo had never been happier to be going home.

**Author's Note:**

> Everybody loves a good redemption arc and we're no exception! A series of small yarns we weren't sure what to do with brought together in one overarching narrative. We think this one's a little different, hope you enjoy!


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